


Unintentionally Seducing Emotionally Compromised Chameleons

by Maxaro



Category: RWBY
Genre: Adam hating everything and everyone, Blake and Ilia conveniently not noticing the other's existence, F/M, Humor, Ilia being a stalker, Orientation play kinda but not really, Romance, crackship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxaro/pseuds/Maxaro
Summary: A comprehensive guide by Dr Jaune "Accidental pimp" Arc, PHD// Summary: When Blake left, Ilia was devastated, but not long after, sadness turned to anger and indignation. So, what would happen if, in her overly emotional state, she had a human treat her in a way that none ever had before? What kind of effect would it have on her mind and, most importantly, her heart?
Relationships: Ilia Amitola/Jaune Arc, Others might appear later
Comments: 23
Kudos: 100





	1. Like a wet paper towel

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This little piece of write fuckary has been bumping around in my head for a long fucking time now. I think I laid out the groundwork for the idea about a year ago, but I haven't seriously put work into it until the past couple of weeks. As usual, it's way longer than I originally had in mind, and probably not as funny, but I'm satisfied with it ultimately. And to address the elephant in the room, of course I know Ilia enjoys the muff, but if I can make Jaune into a girl to bang Blake, then who's to fucking stop me from doing this bullshit? Enjoy some fucking PRIMO crackshipping!

Ilia Amitola had been utterly speechless when she'd watched the human rise shakily to his feet, but when he turned around and looked back at her, speechlessness was replaced by complete _thoughtlessness,_ her mouth falling open partially and her stomach suddenly brimming with tingles.

She blinked and then blinked once more, trying feebly to process all she'd seen; all the _emotions_ that welled up in her head, her heart, her entire _body_. She'd never felt like this before. It wasn't anger, not sadness, not jealousy, and not joy either. All of those she'd experienced in the past, and subsequently learned how to deal with, thanks in most part to Blake, at least until recently. Thoughts about Adam and how much he'd changed? Same thing; she could handle them. _This_ , on the other hand? This was completely new. Completely _alien._

Ilia was well and truly _stumped._ And all because of a single, bloodied and bruised, yet still brightly smiling blonde boy.

Just _how_ had she gotten herself into this situation?

Well…

XXX

' _She just… left… she left us… **abandoned** us...'_

In the most secluded corner of the airship that she could find, the only thing keeping her company being the dull rumble of the engines, Ilia sat stewing in her thoughts, her face twisted in a scowl halfway between furious and heartbroken. While not the first, this was one of the very, very, _very_ few opportunities she'd had since the _betrayal_ to just sit down and _think_ about what exactly Blake had done, the weeks following the _announcement_ having been too busy for her to fully process everything. She'd been sent on mission after mission after mission ever since the Fang had joined forces with that Cinder woman, and days had begun blurring together as she did her work and then immediately fell asleep from exhaustion, only to wake up a few hours later to do it all over again.

Anger and confusion and sadness all tumbled around in her head, each emotion only lasting for a moment before it was replaced by one of the others, and Ilia hated every single second of it. She couldn't decide what feeling was the _right_ one, and that only put her even more on edge. She'd felt flashes of all of these emotions coming over her during the past few weeks, but it was only now that there was nothing else to interrupt her that she could truly think about them. She didn't know whether to scream, to cry, or stare blankly at the floor in front of her—whether she wanted to pummel Blake bloody or throw herself into her arms as she wept.

Her anger was the most simple to understand; Blake had been her close friend, maybe even more—unrequited though her true feelings might have been—and yet Blake had said nothing to her regarding her plans. She hadn't even had the decency to tell Ilia herself through a message or something, it had been Adam who had broken the news to everyone.

For _years_ , Ilia had thought that they'd been fighting for the same goal, that they were both equally dedicated to their cause, but no, Blake had given up on everything without a word to _anyone_ in the Fang! Just how many lies had she told them if it had been this easy for her to abandon them all!

Ilia's hands clenched into fist tight enough that her aura sparked around her fingers, the pain she'd felt in her chest when Adam had returned alone from the mission stabbing through her like a jagged spike of fire once more, her fury draining out of her as quickly as it had blazed up, leaving her feeling hollow and vacant inside instead.

Blake had been her first true companion in the Fang, the person she'd turned to whenever her own convictions had been shaken, and the only person Ilia had ever felt she'd happily want to spend the rest of her life with. When Blake had gotten together with Adam, she'd been disappointed like never before, but deep down she'd known that the chance of the ravenette returning her feelings had always been slim and their friendship hadn't been damaged by it either, occasional pangs jealousy not withstanding. And now Blake was simply _gone._

Just as her eyes started to grow watery, Ilia was shaken from her thoughts by the distinct, heavy sound of docking clamps being engaged and the feeling of finally coming to a stop. She got up from her corner and stretched mechanically, not really consciously caring about how stiff she'd gotten from sitting still for so many hours, before picking up her bag from beside her. Her face was downcast as she stealthily joined the other passengers when they began disembarking from the airship, pretending to be just another commuter, but she felt a pair of eyes on her as she walked by some of the airship staff and she set off in a run the moment the crowd around her dispersed enough. She wasn't interested in giving them a chance to call her out. This wasn't her first time sneaking aboard a transport vessel, nor would it be the last, and she'd since long learned to recognize the signs that meant someone suspected her of getting a free ride.

With practiced ease, she melted into the throng of people outside the airship station, willing her skin to lighten and hair to do the opposite. No longer was she the mocca-skinned brunette the airship personal would be looking for. Instead, she could blend into the crowd disguised as just another fair skinned, black haired girl.

' _Just like Blake...'_ came an unbidden thought, and a streak of blue appeared among Ilia's new tresses.

It took more effort than she'd ever like to admit to keep herself from screaming out and making a scene, but Ilia ultimately kept walking along the streets until she reached what she assumed was the city square. As the crowds around her dissipated a bit, she turned her eyes to the horizon and the mountain that overlooked the city, atop which laid her final destination and mission objective.

The world famous Hunter school; Beacon academy.

Seeing the imposing spires and towers crowning the almost castle-esque structure reminded her of her childhood, albeit faintly. She'd heard stories about the school for as long as she could remember and many years ago, she'd secretly dreamed of attending it; learning how to become the greatest fighter in the world so she could protect all of Faunus kind from both Grimm and the humans that had pushed them down so many times. Those dreams had been abandoned the moment she'd joined the Fang, however. The world didn't need more heroes, she'd learned, it simply needed justice to be served, and she wanted to be one of the ones who delivered it.

But then Blake had left, and suddenly Ilia didn't feel so certain about her goals anymore. Not when the person she'd thought would be by her side through the whole journey had abandoned her.

A deep sigh left Ilia's lungs as she tore her eyes away from Beacon. A brief glance at a nearby shop window confirmed what she already knew; yet another streak of blue had appeared in her hair, and , she a new surge of annoyance started to bubble up in the pit of her stomach. She should have more self-discipline than this. Blake was _gone_ and it looked like any of them would be seeing her again for a very, very long time, if ever. Ilia had allowed herself to think about what it all meant, how she felt about the situation, for almost the entire ride to Vale and now she needed to suck it up, accept that her best friend had left, and move on.

"Stop being pathetic, Ilia. You have a mission to do," she whispered to herself, though the words rang hollow even to her own ears.

Unless something or some _one_ took her place in Ilia's mind, she knew deep down that thoughts about Blake would come back to nag at her.

For now, however, Ilia managed to bury the brunt of all those feelings in the back of her mind, her appearance returning to normal. With some concentration, she even managed to make the blue lines vanish, and with that, she set off for the safehouse she'd be staying at while on her assignment. Adam would want to debrief her fully as soon as possible, and she really wasn't keen on having him berate her for being late. Not today.

When she blended in with the crowds walking along the streets of the city, no one could ever guess that there was a White Fang operative among them, and Ilia made good use of this ability to appear human. When given the opportunity, she asked around about the comings and goings of Vale and, to a lesser extent, Beacon academy, taking mental notes of hotspots and places that people suggested she avoid respectively. She learned that Beacon had begun its new term only a week previously and that there were some rather famous individuals that had arrived with the new students. Pyrrha Nikos was one of them, but what interested Ilia more was fact that the Schnee heiress herself was attending Beacon at this very moment. Adam and Sienna would surely want to hear about that little tidbit of information, if they didn't already know about it.

As Ilia started to get closer to the safehouse, more or less content with her first intelligence gathering 'operation', she suddenly tensed up, feeling a distinct sense of trepidation run up her neck. She recognized it well—she'd felt the sensation earlier that very same day in fact; someone was following her.

Pretending like she hadn't noticed, Ilia kept walking for another block or so until she reached an alleyway that she deemed inconspicuous enough, ducking into without hesitation. Once she'd gotten far enough away from the crowded street, she turned back to find that a pair of humans had taken the exact same path as her. One of them was clearly a male, on the taller side and with a face that looked supremely punchable to Ilia right about now. The other was a woman, almost as tall as the guy thanks to a wicked looking pair of high-heeled shoes, with that were features twisted in a sickly sweet smile that couldn't look more fake if there was a person behind her literally pulling on her cheeks. Both wore clothes that reeked of money that hadn't been earned through honest work and Ilia body readied itself for what she knew would inevitably come. This wasn't her first time being accosted by _scum_.

"Howdy there little lady. Can't say I've ever seen someone like you around these parts before," the man said as he continued to advance towards Ilia, his tone sounding outwardly casual at first. "We couldn't help but notice you've been asking a lot of questions today under what I'd call 'false pretenses' and that just doesn't sit well with people like us you see."

The lady giggled as the man gestured to the two of them and the sound seemed to scrape along Ilia's eardrums. Slowly, she started to back away from the approaching duo, her fists balling up on either side of her body. Her first instinct was to kick in the teeth of both of them and hide the bodies in a dumpster where they could lay among the other trash until they woke up again, but that would be too to conspicuous, she knew. She wasn't supposed to be a fighter, just some random Faunus girl who'd just arrived into town, so all she could do was stay silent and keep backing up.

"A Faunus walking around disguised as a human, asking a bunch of questions? That's just something good, honest folk can't overlook." Ilia cursed mentally as she realized she hadn't been as stealthy in her appearance changing as she'd thought. "I think it'd be best for everyone if you came with us to the police station and told them what you've been walking around doing. _Or,_ if you'd prefer, the two of us could _take care of you_ instead?"

They'd reached the end of the alley by now, the man cracking his knuckles with a poignant glare in his eyes, his female companion's smile dripping with the cruelty that Ilia had known was always there from the start.

"It's your choice, you little _pest._ Pick wisely," the lady finally spat, and Ilia was just about to make a run for it, when another voice made all three of their heads swivel around towards it.

"Hey! You two better leave her alone or else!"

XXX

Jaune hadn't really had any concrete idea in mind as to what he was going to do in Vale, not being very used to big cities, but he'd figured there had to be _something_ worthwhile checking out _somewhere_ if he kept walking for long enough. A comicbook store or an arcade maybe. He definitely hoped he came across one of these places soon, though, since boredom was starting to take its toll on him and the temptation to call the day a bust and just head back to Beacon was growing.

That's when he happened to walk past a certain inconspicuous and outwardly ordinary alleyway. It was by mere coincidence that Jaune's eyes found themselves turning to look down the alley, but what he saw made every ounce of dullness he'd felt only moments before disappear.

The Faunus girl caught his gaze first, her expression and body language screaming discomfort to him, and he was already moving by the time he'd noticed the clearly threatening words coming from the two humans' mouths. He recognized their tones; it was the same way of speaking that he'd heard from Cardin. When he was halfway into the alley, however, the certainty he'd had about his actions suddenly shook in his gut, and hesitation crept into his steps. Was he really doing this? Was this the _right thing_ to do?

Again, Jaune's eyes came to rest on the young female Faunus' face, and the answer become crystal clear to him. _This_ was what heroes did. What _Arcs_ did. What _he_ had gone to Beacon for.

His voice echoed between the buildings on either side of them all before he'd even had time to think about what he should say, and he set his jaw when both the scumbag looking man and foul sounding woman stopped mid step before turning around to look at him.

For a moment, the two of them only looked at him, and Jaune did his best to keep his glare at them level and unwavering. Nervousness gnawed at his gut, but he refused to look away or turn his back on this now. After a couple of seconds that felt more like hours, the man sneered at him and cocked his head.

"Get the hell out of here kid. This has nothing to do with you. If you know what's best for ya, you'll run off and pretend you never saw us before. Otherwise, this'll get _real ugly_ for you _._ "

Jaune's hands flexed as he deliberately took another step forward, only now noticing that the bastard of a man was a fair bit bigger than him. He told himself it didn't matter; that he was a Hunter in training and that he'd seen far worse things already. This guy was nothing compared to a Deathstalker or Nevermore.

"I said to leave her alone. Or you two are gonna be sorry." Jaune could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Not even he knew where these words were coming from, but he stood by them, his resolve reaffirming itself whenever he glanced over at the Faunus girl.

"You threatening me, _brat?_ Andover some stupid, lowlife Faunus?" the bastard growled back.

"The only lowlifes here are the two of you. Now leave. Her. _Alone._ " Jaune could feel a fire begin to burn in his belly, adrenaline entering his system.

"Sympathizer trash," the bastard muttered and then both he and Jaune moved towards one another again.

It all happened in a flash, so fast that Jaune had a hard time keeping up with it. The bastard had thrown the first punch, but before it could actually hit him, the air right in front of Jaune's face had crackled with energy, stopping the blow. He still felt the impact, staggering back a step, but there wasn't any pain, realization dawning on him.

' _My aura...'_ Jaune thought triumphantly, a swell of confidence rising up inside him as it was his turn to hurl a fist that took the bastard square in the chest. He could do this. He was a Hunter. Hunters fought Grimm— _defeated_ Grimm! Ordinary humans couldn't compete with people like them!

As the bastard stumbled back with a loud **oof** , Jaune felt another feeling creep in the back of his mind his victory shortlived. Should he really be using this newfound strength on humans, regardless of if they were racist shitheads or not? The question rang in his head as he sidestepped the bastard's wild retaliation, the fire in his belly suddenly joined by a heaviness that unsettled him.

This new kind of uncertainty was just the kind of distraction Jaune couldn't afford to think about, he realized when the bastard took advantage of his hesitation and grappled him, shoving him back against the wall of the alleyway and following it up with a knee right into Jaune's gut. This time, there was nothing to protect him from the full force of the blow, and Jaune felt his breath get dragged right out of his lungs.

Suddenly, stars began to dance in front of his eyelids and pain exploded from his temple, the full impact of the punch he just received taking a second to register. It was quickly followed by another, this one square in the middle of Jaune's face, a wet trickle down his chin teaming up with the pain to further overload his senses.

"I told you this would happen, brat!"

The words were enough to finally knock Jaune out of his stupor, his eyes blinking open just in time to see the bastard next incoming fist. He gritted his teeth and did his best to endure the hit, not content with being a punching bag anymore.

Jaune could feel his split lip start to swell up and blood running running from his nose as he struggled to push the bastard away from him, but with a wall against his back, a hand gripping his collar tightly, and a dumpster to his side, he couldn't go anywhere. Pain throbbed dully in his head as the bastard's fist collided with his cheek again and again, the cruel laughter of the stupid lady ringing faintly in the background.

Eventually, Jaune felt himself stop squirming as his energy was draining out of him bit by bit with every blow to his face, strength slowly diminishing. At the same time, however, he also noticed the bastard's punches had also slowed down, the gap between them growing larger and their impact not shaking him as much. His vision was swimming, but Jaune could still focus just enough to make out the bastard's ugly mug, his unnaturally white teeth bared in a sadistic grin as he took deep, panting breaths. It was only a second's reprieve, Jaune knew, but it was all he needed. As the bastard's arm wound back again, Jaune grabbed _his_ collar as well and slammed his forehead against the bastard's nose with all the might he could muster.

The wet **crack** that came from the bastard's nose being broken really shouldn't have been so damn satisfying to Jaune's ears, but right about now it really sounded downright _musical_. From his side, he heard the lady shout in alarm, but Jaune's focus was still on the bastard. Clutching his profusely bleeding nostrils, the bastard stumbled backwards enough for Jaune to deliver a haymaker into the bastard's exposed throat, the bastard letting out a strangled gurgle when he crumpled pathetically to the ground.

Jaune was just about to turn to see how the Faunus girl was doing when he too met the ground, a splitting pain arching up his spine and locking his legs. He barely caught the sight of the stupid lady rushing past him to where the bastard was writhing, the realization that she'd kicked him squarely in the back registering in Jaune's head.

With his world spinning and his legs not wanting to cooperate, Jaune could only watch as the stupid lady pulled the bastard up before they ran out of the alleyway, curses flying back over their shoulders, Jaune only now noticing the gnarled look of the bastard's knuckles. Finally, the pair of lowlifes rounded the corner, leaving Jaune and the Faunus girl all alone.

' _Guess Noir was right, I really_ _ **do**_ _have a thick_ _skull_ _,'_ Jaune thought to himselfas his vertigo passed, a tired chuckle leaving his lips.

With the help of the dumpster that had trapped him before, he got his legs underneath him and was pleasantly surprised that his balance wasn't that hard to find. His ears were still ringing a bit and his whole face hurt like hell, but none of that mattered. It all fell into the back of his mind when he saw the Faunus girl behind him was alright. Through the pain, the ringing, and the blood still dripping from his nose, a smile broke out on his features; bright and filled with relief.

He'd done it. He'd managed to protect her.

"You're not hurt are you?" Jaune asked after a moment of silence had passed between them, figuring that the Faunus girl didn't look like she was planning on saying anything. "I'd offer to show you to a hospital or something, but I don't really know my way around town yet, sadly, so I'd probably just get us completely lost." Concern marred his voice even as his smile remained and he tried to lighten the air between them.

That's when he realized he should probably introduce himself before it was too late.

XXX

When Ilia heard the boy speak, her whole chest felt like it suddenly flipped upside down, stunning her even further. There was none of the hardness in his tone that he'd used on the two other humans, no suspicion regarding what had happen, no anger from being injured because of her. Instead, all of it was replaced with by tentative, but undeniably cheerful words that made a small bit warmth blossom in the deepest recesses of her recently scarred heart, like a candle beginning to light up a darkened room. She'd never had a human speak to her like this before.

Never had a human _fight_ for her before.

It was crazy, Ilia thought. After all this human had just gone through, he was now asking if _she_ was okay when it was his face that was currently covered in both his own and the other, openly disgusting human's blood, followed by making a _joke_?

Just who the hell was this guy?

As if to answer Ilia's mental question, the human spoke up again.

"The name's Jaune, by the way. Jaune Arc. Rolls- never mind," her 'savior' said, though he seemed to stop himself mid-sentence with an awkward cough. Then he smiled at her again, and Ilia suddenly felt like her knees were growing weak.

' _Jaune Arc...'_

Ilia had lived practically her whole adolescent life by one principle that she thought would always be true: When push came to shove, humans would only look out for other humans, and as such Faunus were the only ones that would ever look out for other Faunus. She'd joined the White Fang for just that reason, to make sure her people were protected. But then here comes a human and gets himself beaten bloody just to _protect_ _her_. It just didn't make sense

' _Jaune Arc...'_

Paranoia tried to worm its way into Ilia's head, but it failed to find any purchase. When she looked at the human—at _Jaune—_ and his bright smile especially, she didn't detect any ulterior motives lurking behind his features. In the Fang, one of the things Ilia had prided herself the most on was her ability to read people and get information out of them, and right now, as her pale gray eyes met his strikingly deep blue, there wasn't any dishonesty for her to uncover. In one fell swoop, this strange boy had managed to all but steamroll right through how Ilia was used to perceiving the world around her, cracking _it_ in much the same way as he'd cracked the nose of the asshole.

' _Jaune… Arc… I like the sound of that name...'_ Ilia found herself thinking, her body slowly but surely losing the tension that had built up ever since she'd noticed the two other humans following her.

It was only then that she noticed just how long she'd spent being silent, and her mouth opened before she had the time to formulate any words herself.

"I-Ilia!" she exclaimed with all the grace of a flying washing machine, her cheeks flushing from just how _strange_ Jaune was making her feel. _'Get a grip, Ilia!'_

"I'm Ilia," she clarified after clearing her throat.

For the third time now, Jaune smiled at her, and for a third time Ilia felt something inside herself light up simply from seeing it. A light that she couldn't remember ever feeling before. It was just so _different_ from how humans had treated her in the past—how she more or less thought they were _supposed_ to treat her.

"I would say it's nice to meet you, Ilia, but I think we both know we could have met under far more pleasant circumstances," Jaune said with a small chuckle that did indescribable things to Ilia's insides, as did hearing her name coming from his lips.

Suddenly, just as she thought she might be able to relax slightly, Ilia felt a burst of panic in her chest as Jaune's eyes first flicked to the ground and he then began to walk towards her. She found herself frozen as he approached, unable to get her tongue working inside her mouth, the word ' _don't_ ' disappearing from her brain, but then Jaune stopped. She watched silently as he picked up the bag she'd been carrying with her all day long, dusting it off before crossing the last bit of distance between them, the two of them now standing close enough to touch one another if either of them tried. She hadn't even realized she'd dropped it until now.

Jaune offered her the bag with a slight twitch of his eye telling of the pain that lifting anything in his condition brought, but Ilia could only stare at him for a brief moment.

It wasn't some grandiose act of heroism, nor was it the first time someone had performed some manner of polite gesture for Ilia, but after all that she'd just seen Jaune do for her—not just a complete stranger but a _Faunus_ on top of it all—and coupled with the stress of the past couple of weeks, it was as if something simply _changed_ in her head.

Like a switch had been flipped.

In a world that only existed as a quasi-visualized amalgamation of Ilia's thoughts, dreams, wishes, and regrets, the crudely drawn face of one Blake Belladonna—an image that had existed in the very back of Ilia's subconscious for many, many years, albeit in numerous different forms—was abruptly and unceremoniously crossed out with something that looked like crayon. In its place stood a majestic portrait of a tall, blonde haired, sapphire eyed young man, seemingly detailed by the most masterful of brushstrokes. His upper body was bereft of any clothing, displaying his rippling and almost impossibly beautiful physique in perfect detail; powerful muscles that looked simultaneously hardened to a point where they could surely stop bullets and soft enough to provide the ideal form of comfort and warmth if wrapped around a loved one covering his broad shoulders and arms.

His face was that of a boy on the very cusp of manhood, with features that still carried softness but would surely soon harden into something unfathomably handsome and rugged. His eyes looked as deep as the very oceans themselves, as if one could get lost and drown in them if they weren't careful, all whilst hiding troves upon troves of emotions; alluring like they'd been carved from the very gemstone they could be likened with.

Held between his teeth, only further accentuating his inviting expression, was a single rose, a few beads of morning dew still clinging to its petals. Were one of these drops to fall, it wouldn't be difficult to imagine the twists and turns it would take running down the man's chest, drawing even more attention to his body if such a thing was even possible. The image was beauty itself, actually radiating its own brilliant golden light within Ilia's vivid imagination, and somehow she knew exactly what the only appropriate name for this portrait had to be.

" _ **Jaune Arc."**_

From within Ilia's subconscious, the image of the young man was projected through her brain onto the boy before her, igniting fires throughout her body that she had never felt before. She dumbly accepted her bag and it was the jolt that suddenly passed through her when their hands brushed against one another that finally brought her back to the present.

Yet, for some reason, despite Jaune not looking anything like the picture that had just appeared in her mind, the heat that had sprung up in her chest and traveled out into every one of her limbs remained. If anything, it got even stronger as she looked at his blood smeared features and half-torn shirt. What he'd just done for her replayed itself before her eyes and slowly but surely the disbelief she'd held was being replaced by other emotions; emotions that only added coal to the fire.

"T-thank you..." she mumbled almost dreamily, her cheeks darkening. "For everything."

"It was nothing, really. Wouldn't have been right for me to just walk by and not do anything. Not when I could help," Jaune said, his sincerity once more leaving her feeling flushed all over.

' _No one would have blamed you if you had, though… not when it was just a Faunus… you **could** have walked away… **could** have left me to fend for myself... but you **didn't**...' _

It didn't matter to Ilia that she could have taken care of the situation herself, or that she was undoubtedly a more skilled fighter than Jaune; the mere fact that he had risked his well being for her sake continued to resonate in her heart. She found herself smiling up at him, only now realizing just how tall he was compared to her, though unlike the human from before or Adam, Jaune's size didn't seem _imposing_. Not to her. He just looked _big._

And Ilia found herself liking that.

"I, uh, heard about how, well, _bad_ life could be for Faunus here in Vale before I got here, but I didn't really believe it until today, honestly. I'm sorry. For what they said and tried to, you know, _do._ " Jaune's tone had turned more somber and serious suddenly, the brightness on his face dimming too. "They- _we_ are not all like that, I promise. There are good humans out there too."

"I know. I'm looking right at one," Ilia found herself replying almost immediately.

It was now Jaune's turn to blush and look away, one of his hands coming up to scratch the back of his neck, and Ilia's heart all but stopped for a second or two, as she was fairly certain she'd never seen anything more _adorable_ in her whole life. She needed to see him do it again in the future, she quickly decided. In the _near_ future preferably.

"So, Jaune... from what you said earlier, I take it you're new to Vale?" Ilia asked after a moment, silently berating herself for just how cliche the question was while simultaneously relishing in any excuse that possibly let her talk to him some more.

Along with enjoying the tingle she felt when she said his name.

"Yeah, something along those lines. I've never really been in a big city like this before, my hometown didn't exactly prepare me for it all," Jaune answered, only to hesitate for a split second before continuing. "I'm a... Beacon student, actually. Hunter-in-training and all that. Leader of team JNPR." Though he was still smiling at her, Ilia couldn't help but notice the oddly reserved way in which Jaune now spoke. There was pride in his words, she could feel, but something else too, and she couldn't deny her surprise that someone with his skills, or lack thereof, had been admitted to Beacon of all places.

There was clearly something going on here that went beyond just the surface.

"You're going to be a Hunter then?" Ilia did her best to keep the disbelief she felt out of her voice, quickly feeling relieved when Jaune nodded without showing any signs of being incensed by her question.

"I hope so," he said earnestly, his eyes taking on a far-off look for a moment. "My family have always been heroes in some way in the past, always fighting to keep everyone safe, and I just can't break that tradition. I _need_ to be just like they were. Need to be _one_ of them, you know? I want to protect people too, like us Arcs are _supposed_ to do." When Jaune looked at Ilia again, there was a fire in his eyes. Conviction the likes of which she didn't think she'd seen before, born from the seriousness with which he spoke about heroes.

Ilia was no stranger to lofty speeches meant to inspire and stir the hearts of people. She'd listened more than she could over the past decade of her life, whether they be from fat-cat humans who wanted more power and money, or from her seniors in the White Fang when they tried to fill them all with the motivation needed to keep moving forwardi. She'd learned long ago how to filter herself through the bluster and grand exclamations to actually hear what was being said. That's why it shocked her when she didn't feel any need to pick apart Jaune's words.

Instead, thanks to the portrait that her subconscious had painted for her before, Ilia saw something different than just another human spilling hot air when Jaune spoke. On the fields of imagination that rolled eternally inside her mind, rode a knight in ornate, gold and ivory armor that gleamed in the brilliant sun shining from on above. His head was helmetless, a bright visage with a mane of hair that seemed to be made out of golden warmth itself. He had a smile that told of glory and victory, of safety and protection, and of strength tempered by unyielding resolve, and the eyes of a warrior who knew he fought for a good cause.

His horse was the purest of whites, unsullied by even a speck of dirt and with not a single hair from its mane out of place even as it billowed in the gentle breeze that flowed over the mind-born meadows. The steed too radiated strength, seemingly bolstered by its master's own convictions. The pair together looked like they could lead an army of a hundred thousand men and women into battle and return home with twice as many as when they left, not a drop of blood on any of them.

In short, Ilia's mind conjured an image of a hero. A hero whose form slowly melted onto Jaune Arc, with his eyes remaining as resolute as ever the whole time, the sight causing Ilia's blush to spread even further across her features, going so far as to darken her ears.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, the gestalt consciousness of Ilia's unaware cognition, whose appearance could be likened to that of a weird gremlin, rubbed its hands together with satisfaction, feeling very proud of its accomplishments that day, before going off to take an early lunch.

When Ilia once again came back from dream-land, she quickly realized that she must have stayed silent for too long, as Jaune had a look of embarrassment in his face much like the one that made her heart stop before. A phenomenon that repeated itself with no less intensity.

"I know it sounds silly, trust me, but it's always been my goal ever since I first heard the stories of my family. One day, I want my grand kids to be able to listen to tales about my sisters and I and maybe be inspired in some way too. If not, well, then I'm just not enough of an Arc and won't _matter_ in the end," Jaune explained.

Ilia went to reply, to tell him that she'd had similar dreams of being a hero in the past too, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of bells ringing in the distance, announcing the new hour.

"Oh damn, it's that late already?" Jaune mumbled to himself, pulling out a scroll from his pocket and confirming the time for himself. He looked panicked suddenly and started to turn on his heel before stopping and swiveling back around to Ilia. "Sorry, but I have to run! The last Bullheads are gonna be leaving any minute now and I have no idea how to get back to Beacon if I miss them! It was really nice to meet youandIhopewecanseeeachotheragainokaybyeeeee!"

A blinking Ilia was left in the alley as she watched the first human to ever fight for her sprint off like he hadn't taken a severe beating not an hour earlier. She wanted to call after him, tell him thanks one last time if nothing else, but in the end she stayed silent, indecisiveness restraining her voice for what felt like the hundredth time today...

Only for an _urge_ to burst forth inside of her that made an image appear in her head.

When Jaune had disappeared from her line of sight, Ilia felt as if she was left at a crossroads. If she looked down one of the paths, she saw Adam waiting for her, his permanently scowling face making her stomach curl. She could easily imagine what he'd say when she reported in, how he'd scold her for being late and not truly caring about her reasons if she chose to explain what had happened to her. In another life, it was a path that she'd never consider taking, regardless of if she was on a mission or not. She knew she had a duty to the Fang, but things were changing for all of them lately, and the organization that she'd once called her only home didn't feel like itself anymore.

Mentally turning her gaze to the other path, however, filled Ilia's chest with that strange warmth. Instead of Adam's cold, uncaring mug, there was a different figure, wearing a smile. A smile that had implanted itself deep inside of her heart already, and in the state that she was in currently, with everything that happened today and the weeks leading up to this moment, that was all that it took for Ilia to stash away her bag in a hidden enough location and head after the blonde Beacon student who made her feel all these things in the first place.

After all, Adam would yell at her no matter what, so what was the harm in her delivering her report a few hours late?

Or, perhaps, she could hand it in the next morning instead...?

XXX

Jaune grimaced as Nora dabbed at his sore nose with the disinfectant soaked piece of gauze in her hand, an apologetic look appearing on her face whenever he let out any sounds of discomfort. He'd tried telling everyone that it was fine, that he didn't need anyone looking over him, and that it didn't actually hurt anymore, but his team hadn't bought his lies, with Pyrrha all but throwing into a seat on the couch so that he could be examined thoroughly.

Currently, she was hurrying around the common room looking frantically for the gauze and bandages that both Nora and Ren had told her multiple times that they'd already found, but the information didn't seem to penetrate the almost visible layer of worry around her head.

It kind of reminded Jaune of how his sisters had acted whenever he'd fallen and skimmed his knee or something; all but panicking like he could die from spontaneous blood loss at any moment. He felt a bit guilty for finding the sight rather funny to observe, especially considering how levelheaded he'd thought Pyrrha always was. It was kinda refreshing to see that she couldn't contain herself _all_ the time, a fact that Jaune put away in his brain for the future. He should never forget that Pyrrha was a human just like him, champion or not.

"Sorry Jaune, but this is gonna sting. A lot."

Despite Nora's warning, Jaune almost jumped out of his seat when she prodded hard at his cheek, a despairing groan shaking around in his throat.

"Yeesh Vomit-boy, how'd ya manage to get this roughed up? You look like an Ursa used you as a mattress," the voice of Yang rang out into the room with the eponymous blonde herself flopping down into a chair to Jaune's side. Along with her was Ruby and Weiss, both of them standing for the time being, but the team's fourth was nowhere to be seen at the moment.

"I- ugh! I-I kinda got into a fight while I was in Vale," Jaune replied with a pained smile, feeling a small bit of pride from his deed.

At the mention of the word 'fight', all eyes in the room suddenly snapped towards Jaune, and he didn't even have time to blink before both Yang and Ruby were right in his face, their expressions practically the perfect antithesis of the other's.

"Ohohohoho! You need to tell me everything that happened right now! Spare no details! How many guys were there? Did you knock any of them out? Did you break any legs?!" Yang demanded to know gleefully, stars practically shining in her eyes. Somehow, he'd managed to trigger her happy-mode, and as it stood, Jaune wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not considering how Yang was all but _vibrating_ on the spotwith sudden excitement.

Ruby, meanwhile, looked like she'd just burst into the hospital room of her dearest friend that had just been in a horrific, 150 car pile-up on the freeway.

"You were in a fight!? With who?! What kind of monster did this to you!? Do you know where they are!?" she asked in rapid succession, gripping his hand with enough force that Jaune was sure he could practically hear his bones creak.

"I-it was just the one guy!" Jaune stammered out in quick response as he tried, and failed, to lean away from the distraught and respectively elated pair of sisters. "I saw him and some other lady threatening this Faunus girl as I was walking past an alley, so I rushed in and tried to get them to leave her alone. They weren't listening and just told me to get lost, but I stayed, and long story short, the guy and I fought until I headbutted him in the face and punched him in the throat. Then the lady kicked me in the back and they ran off."

As he regaled the assembled group of Hunter-in-training with his daily exploits, he saw a large swathe of different emotions across all their faces.

Ruby had turned from heartbroken to something that bordered on starstruck, apparently her turn now to be excited. To further prove the old adage about actions need equal and opposite reactions, Yang's fire was seemingly thoroughly doused by his words, however, and she didn't need to say anything for him to see the signs of distrust on her features. One glance at Nora told him that she shared Ruby's newfound energy, pride beaming at him from her wide grin, and it was impossible for him to not return the smile. Ren looked far more reserved, though that was to be expected, but he too had a slight upwards quirk to his lips, an approving air coming off him. Jaune's eyes had to search for a moment to find Weiss among the crowd, and his heart fell a little in his chest when he saw her almost bored looking expression and upraised eyebrow, her disbelief clearly written in her eyes.

Just a step away from all of them, a black aura of malicious energy begun to build around Pyrrha Nikos, her mind slowly filling with plots of murder and violence enacted upon those who had hurt her precious blonde bean. It was dispelled in an instant, however, when she heard Jaune let out a new, pained yelp, and she immediately returned to looking for any and all medical supplies available.

"That's amazing, Jaune. You acted just like a Huntsman is supposed to!" Ruby said enthusiastically.

"Yeah!" Nora agreed with just as much bubbly excitement, throwing an arm around Jaune's shoulders. "You're a total hero!"

Their celebratory mood was clearly dampened, however, when Yang chimed in, her tone clearly uncomfortable with the subject.

"Sorry to have to ask this, but was that really what happened, Jaune? It sounds pretty cliché, not gonna lie."

"What the heck Yang! Jaune wouldn't lie about something like this! And weren't you the one who wanted to know all the 'juicy details' not one minute ago?" Ruby protested before Jaune had a chance to do more than open his mouth, her face morphed into an aghast mask.

"I thought he'd ran into some bar-thugs or something who thought they could take on someone with aura! There are loads of those kinds of douchebags in Vale!" Yang quickly raised her hands in a placating manner when Ruby suddenly appeared in front of her in a flutter of rose petals.

"Yang is right, Ruby."

Again, all the heads in the room turned, but this time towards Weiss, whose face was practically ice cold as she regarded Jaune, the look in her eyes sending a very unpleasant shiver down his spine.

"Not you too, Weiss..." Ruby whined feebly, but her partner's gaze didn't move away from Jaune.

"Loathe as I am to admit it, Arc, you _do_ have a remarkably large supply of aura, so the idea of a single ordinary human breaking through it to pummel you sounds awfully far-fetched to me. If what you're saying _is_ the truth, then why weren't you able to pacify this braggart with little to no effort? I say it seems far more likely you simply tripped and hurt yourself that way."

Weiss' accusatory tone cut straight into Jaune's heart, but as much as he longed to avert his eyes and slump in his seat beneath her frosty disposition, he knew he was telling the truth. That what had happened with Ilia wasn't just some lie he made up to seem heroic.

"I did have my aura. At least at first," Jaune began, thinking back to the feeling of unease that had filled him when the asshole's first punch had just stopped right in front of his face. "He swung at me and his fist just seemed to skid off the air, and I hit him right back, which sent him stumbling. I didn't even use any real force in the shove, honestly, but he still almost landed right on his ass. But then..."

His hands balled in his lap as he recalled the surge of _power_ he'd felt all throughout his body in that moment, how _invincible_ he'd been compared to a normal human. And how _wrong_ it had felt at the same time.

"My aura just kinda… shut down? I guess?" Jaune shrugged, cheek and nose hurting again from the memory that was so fresh in his head. "I can't really explain it. I started thinking about if using aura against a human, even if he was a racist scumbag, was really okay or not. The next thing I know he's got me against the wall of the alley, just punching me over and over again. I thought I was gonna pass out. I managed to headbutt him, though, when he stopped to take a breath. Broke his nose, I'm pretty sure. That's what happened, I swear on my mother's honor."

"Wait a sec, have you never fought other humans before?" Yang asked, sounding confused.

Instantly, Jaune realized he'd said exactly the wrong thing, revealing more of his inexperience than he'd intended.

"O-of course I have!" he lied hastily. "It's just that my hometown was really quiet and calm compared to a city like Vale so I haven't run into any people like that racist before. I've done sparring and stuff, naturally. Just never with someone who didn't also have aura."

His rapid thinking earned him a moment of respite as it seemed like everyone believed his explanation, with the exception of Weiss who continued to look at him with a suspicious glint in her icy blue eyes.

"So… this girl you saved, did you manage to get her name?" Ruby interjected after a moment of silence, letting Jaune relax slightly.

"I would very much like to know this too," Pyrrha agreed, speaking up for the first time since forcing Jaune to undergo a checkup, her arms filled with more syringes, dubious pill bottles, haphazardly wrapped bandages, and new gauze than Jaune thought any other person might reasonably carry, but somehow she managed without much effort, seemingly.

"She said her name was Ilia. Didn't catch her last name. I'm guessing she was some kind of lizard Faunus or something. Her skin was very odd looking and had these dots that kept changing colors. Mostly different shades of pink and red," as he described Ilia, Jaune went to take out his scroll, only to realize far too late that he'd forgotten to ask for her number or anything in his rush to catch one of the last Bullheads back to Beacon.

The knowledge saddened him for a moment, since even just from the small conversation they'd shared, he thought Ilia seemed nice, despite looking at him in a kind of weird way. He promised himself that he'd learn from their meeting, however. That there were some absolutely rotten people out there, people who were just as bad as the Grimm, and this wouldn't be the last time he ran into them. Next time, he needed to be more ready to use his aura, even against humans like that. He only had one goal here in Beacon, he reminded himself:

No matter what, Jaune Arc was going to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Like his relatives had. Like _heroes_ did.

Just as the tense air that had started to build up in the common room lifted and Nora went back to cleaning Jaune's face, Blake came wandering into the room, a book with an oddly blank cover held protectively in her hands. When her eyes landed on him and his injuries, Jaune could have sworn that he saw the ribbon on her head move like there was something living inside it, but he waved the thought off.

"What happened to you?" Blake asked.

"Jaune forgot how to use his aura mid-fight," Yang gleefully explained, much to both Ruby and Jaune's chagrin, not that the fiery blonde cared when they started protesting.

XXX

Clinging to the side of one of Beacon's myriad towers, a pair of binoculars covering her eyes, was one Ilia Amitola, her form disguised as an amorphous gray blob against the building. Through her binoculars, she could easily look through the window on the tower just opposite her, on the other side of which sat the boy who made her feel such strange things. She was glad to see that someone seemed to be taking care of Jaune's wounds, though she also couldn't help but notice how quickly the blonde seemed to heal on his own. Unfortunately, she couldn't hear what was being said, but from reading the body languages of everyone in the room—with the exception of the last person to arrive who she couldn't make out thanks to an awfully convenient glare in the glass—Ilia had to assume that it had to do with Jaune coming to her rescue.

How he'd been her glorious, strapping savior in shining armor, yet somehow still with his rippling, masculine physique revealed for the world, and her, to see and marvel at-

Ilia had to shake her head to stop her thoughts going down that rabbit hole for the millionth time that day. She had Jaune-watching to do, and she couldn't afford any distractions.

Especially not distractions in the form of her silenced scroll which was going off with messages regarding her whereabouts every few minutes. She could take care of them later. Or maybe the next day...


	2. *mission impossible theme plays in the background*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilia and Adam have a "talk"! Equipment is requisitioned! Capabilities are questioned! Lady-boners are awakened!
> 
> All of this and more in chapter two of Max's dumb fucking idea!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! After the absolutely fucking insane response that you guys gave the first chapter, I couldn't exactly leave you hanging. Never imagined my email inbox would be so damn full of reviews. We'll see where we go from here, didn't exactly plan much for this story aside from the first chapter. Now, without further ado, enjoy chapter two.

There were many things that Ilia disliked doing when she'd just woken up in the morning after having arrived to her current place of stay later than planned the day before. Trying to act friendly to the other people in the hideout, for example, was particularly straining on her newly sleep roused brain, so that was one of the first things she shucked out the window during mornings like this. Any greetings or questions she got were exclusively answered with noncommittal grunts as she dragged herself to the White Fang's most shameful, yet simultaneously sacred relic;

The Schnee-tech industries XXL Turbo coffee maker( _TM_ ).

It was only after she had a cup of extra strong black coffee in her hands and she'd taken a few sips of it Ilia finally became able to interact with the rest of the world. Sadly, the first of these interactions would be one that she had dreaded in the back of her mind ever since she got back to base yesterday, and she knew that she couldn't put it off anymore. Sighing, she threw her head back and swallowed the rest of her coffee in a series of loud gulps, the burning pain rising up in her throat helping to further wake her up. She'd never been a fan of the taste of coffee anyways, only really seeking out the caffeine, so she considered her intake of the liquid rather efficient, happily ignoring the horrified stares from the other White Fang members around her in the kitchen as she put her mug among the rest of the dishes and wandered off to the debriefing room.

Adam Taurus' seemingly perpetually frowning face appeared on the viewscreen in front of Ilia the moment that she pushed the call button, and he didn't waste so much as a second before interrogating her like she knew he would.

"You didn't send any reports yesterday, Ilia," Adam growled out slowly, his tone as bitingly cold as the featureless expanse of his mask. "I thought I'd made my orders _very_ _clear_ regarding your duties once arriving in Vale, but apparently not. You also chose to not answer any of our calls to your scroll either for some inexplicable reason. Care to explain yourself?"

Ilia winced internally at the venom in his voice, but the sooner she gave her side of the story, the sooner she could get out of here, scolded or not. It helped that she'd somewhat prepared what to say regarding her whereabouts.

"Sir, yesterday's journey did not go entirely as planned, sadly, and I apologize for my absence. I was attacked by a pair of human scum and dealing with the situation brought unforeseen… _consequence_ _s,_ that kept me _occupied_ for far longer than I had anticipated," Ilia replied carefully, bowing her head. She was doing her best not to _lie_ directly to Adam, merely leaving out certain _details_ that she wasn't too keen on sharing right about now.

Not while she still felt all _tingly_ with strange emotions from the past day's events.

Adam regarded her silently, seemingly considering her words, for a moment that went on for longer than Ilia would have liked. Now more than ever, she could recognize how rash or outright stupid her actions could be seen as, even if, to her, they'd felt entirely _natural_. Something told her that her fellow Fang members wouldn't exactly _agree_ with her, however, and she felt immense relief when Adam decided to move on from the subject.

"No matter. I can accept your excuses this time, but only if ensure it doesn't happen again. You're a valued part of the Fang, Ilia, but that doesn't make you exempt from being punished for further insubordination," he said, arms crossing in front of his chest.

Ilia simply nodded in understanding, letting out a breath she hadn't noticed she'd been holding, before giving her only _slightly_ altered report in full. She regaled him dutifully with all the information she'd been able to gather from people in the city, mundane as most of it was, and only left out _one_ particular _individual_ from her recollection of the previous day's events. 'Human interference' and cleanup of evidence were believable enough 'complications' for Adam to instead focus on her new mission briefing. It did not take long for Ilia to zone out during the explanation, however, only paying enough attention to Adam to answer yes or no when needed and to make sure she had at least a passing understanding of what she was meant to do during the coming weeks.

" _Humans bad, Faunus good, oppression and suffering, they live in a society, it was time for them to rise up."_

It wasn't that Ilia didn't agree with his ideals or opinions about humanity—with the exception of maybe _one_ certain human—but she'd gotten a bit tired of hearing what essentially boiled down to the same speech _every single_ _freaking_ _time_ she got a new assignment. If the White Fang were ever going to be successful as bringers of justice for Faunus everywhere, Adam really needed someone to write some new scripts for him to regale the masses with or risk causing alarming outbreaks of narcolepsy all across the world.

Instead, Ilia found herself thinking back to how Jaune had 'saved' her for what had to be the thousandth time since the event itself had taken place. She could still feel the slight _spark_ that had happened when their hands had brushed against one another's when he'd given her her bag, the memory giving her goosebumps all along her arms. She found herself wishing she could feel it again—feel _him_ again—and for longer than just a split second this time. She envied the orange haired girl he was apparently on a team with, since she seemed to have an all access pass to hugging on clinging to Jaune whenever she wanted.

Though it wasn't like Jaune was the _only_ target of said girl's rather _enthusiastic_ affections…

Ilia's attention was only brought back to the Adam's visage on the viewscreen when she caught his explanation winding down, and she let out a resounding "Sir, understood, sir!" in response to his questioning look.

"Good. I expect you to not make the same mistake of delivering your report late again, or you will find yourself _replaced_ on this operation."

With that, Adam cut the video feed, and Ilia finally let herself relax slightly, some tension flowing form her shoulders as her body sagged. As one of her hands ran through her hair, she brought up her scroll for her _actual_ mission details with the other—yet another reason why she didn't feel _too_ bad about not paying much attention to her superior when he started repeating his speeches again. These calls were essentially just a formality, or so Ilia thought, but she knew that complaining about it wouldn't do her any good. Adam was her boss for the time being, and he wasn't exactly the most even tempered Faunus she'd ever had the _pleasure_ of knowing, which was probably one of the reasons why breaking up with him had made it easier for Bla-!

With a clench of her fist, Ilia quickly stomped that thought down on instinct, feeling that pit from the day before slowly starting to crack open. In her head, the picture of the citrine eyed ravenette started to appear, but then, suddenly, it stopped. Instead, there was only the ugly scribbled image from the day before, and almost immediately after another thought took its place;

With her conversation with Adam over, she was now free to go back to _him…_

Ilia promptly spun on her heel and all but ran towards the base's exit, picking up a breakfast bar on the way and scarfing it down mid-jog. She had almost made it halfway when she suddenly remembered an idea that she'd had as the sun had started to set the previous afternoon, skidding to a halt in front of the large storage area where all their equipment was contained. She was skilled when it came to tracking and spying on people, but it never hurt to be more _prepared_ …

XXX

Head requisition officer Striga only gave Ilia a deadpan look as she read through the list of items that the chameleon Faunus wanted to withdraw from their arms and armor stockpile for a second time. When she looked up from the piece of paper, trying to determine if this was some kind of prank or not, all she was met by was Ilia's smiling, hopeful looking face.

Despite being just a few years away from becoming an adult, she looked remarkably like a little kid right about now, one who had just given their Christmas list to their parents and was eagerly waiting for some kind of response.

As oddly sweet as it may have been, however, Striga knew she couldn't just hand out gear without proper cause. Especially not when the 'requisition order' contained such oddly specific items.

"So… you're going on a scouting and reconnaissance mission, yeah?"

Ilia immediately nodded.

"And you want me to check out one of our _XV25 Stealth-suits_ for you? Along with a _scent marker_ kit? For a _scout mission_?"

Again, Ilia instantly nodded, albeit slower this time.

For a moment, Striga simply had to lean back in her chair and clasp her hands together in front of her mouth, processing the information before her along with the sheer audacity of Ilia's requests. It wasn't every day she had someone come to her asking to take their top-of-the-line equipment for something that was almost akin to sightseeing. There were even more items listed on the paper in her hand, a diverse mix that went from outrageous to mundane and back again, but she could not for the life of her imagine how Ilia might 'realistically' need _most_ of this gear.

"I have been given this assignment directly from captain Taurus himself and have been given permission to requisition any and all equipment I may need," Ilia said after another second of silence, her posture suddenly ramrod straight.

"Uh huh," Striga replied, not particularly convinced. "Pray tell, what are you planning on using these..." she glanced down at the list again, " _Blacksun filtration goggles_ for exactly?"

"Nighttime reconnaissance over long distances. I need to be able to make out all the details of whome- _what_ ever I am scouting out, ma'am." The practiced and obviously deliberate neutrality of Ilia's voice didn't go unnoticed by the officer. "I'd, uh, also like to make sure the model of goggles can minimize window glare," she added with an awkward cough, now sounding much more _honest._

"Kid, these things will let you see the specks of dust floating around on that cracked moon of ours. They can handle a few panes of glass, don't you worry. Especially not considering I can't just give a pair of them out without _really_ damn good reason. Sorry to say, kid, but your job doesn't qualify."

A flash of irritation moved across Ilia's features, and for a short second the requisition officer wondered if something bad was about to go down, but as swiftly as the emotion had appeared, it went away, and Ilia's face instead became one of resignation.

"Alright, fine," she huffed, leaning over the officer's desk, their gazes locked. "Look, either I walk back to the briefing room and call captain Taurus just to get a confirmation message for you, which is exactly the kind of interruption that he absolutely _loves_ to deal with, or you give me what I've asked for and we can both get back to doing something more productive. If I'm lying, then _I'll_ be the one in hot water for falsifying a requisition order, not you. You'd just be doing your job."

Despite her suspicions, Ilia's words were enough to make Striga take a pause to think for a second. She didn't entirely believe Ilia's claim about having permission from Adam, but she didn't put it past the higher ups within the Fang to give an operative like Ilia her own, secret mission, along with whatever she needed to carry it out either. Refusing to give equipment to someone working directly for their _somewhat_ temperamental captain, if it turned out that Ilia was actually telling the truth, would definitely bite her in the ass one way or another, so the kid definitely had a point.

' _All this inter-organization politics stuff is why I'll never accept that promotion they want to give me...'_ she thought to herself.

Despite knowing there was still a decent chance she'd regret this, Striga ultimately decided that she could pull enough strings to make sure Ilia got all the blame for whatever stunt she _might_ be trying, and took out a scroll from the one of her pockets, fingers moving to fill out forms with downright professional efficiency.

"I don't get paid enough to deal with this crap..." she muttered mostly to herself before presenting her scroll to Ilia. "Press your hand to the screen to confirm your requisition order then wait here while I get your equipment for you."

As soon as Ilia had done as instructed, Striga snatched back both her scroll and the list she'd been given and entered the storage area. Had she chosen to turn around at any point, she'd have caught a certain chameleon Faunus fist-pumping wildly with the expression of someone who'd just pulled off a big heist on her freckled face.

Lucky for Ilia, Striga didn't, and only a bit later than she'd originally planned, she was finally off to begin her 'special' assignment;

Operation find a way to meet Jaune Arc again was a go!

XXX

Hitting Pyrrha's shield felt like he was trying to cut down the very tower they stood on with a butter knife, and Jaune felt the muscles in his arm groaning from the shock that went through them. Again, he tried to find a way to reach the girl behind the bronze shield, and again his sword was easily swatted aside, only for her own blade to smack against his unarmored side. She might have refrained from using the cutting edge due to their shared lack of protection, but the hit still made him let out a hiss of pain and take a staggering step back.

He felt so slow and sluggish compared to her, like he was trying to fight while submerged neck deep in syrup, and no matter how much the rational side of his brain reminded him that she had more fighting experience in her left toe than he had in his whole body, he couldn't help but get increasingly frustrated.

When he'd fought that bastard in that alleyway, he'd been unstoppable, at least while his aura had been active, but against Pyrrha, he was nothing more than a light nuisance, a fact supported by the rivers of sweat that ran from his body that were nowhere to be found on her own, or the heaving of his chest as he greedily tried to fill his lungs with as much air as they could handle.

He was already exhausted, all the while she hadn't even gotten a light workout.

As Jaune continued to stagger backwards, he soon felt his back bump against one of the walls beside the door leading to the balcony they were training on, and the feeling of a red-hot knife shot up his spine, his knees crumbling beneath him. He managed to throw his arms out to catch himself before his face slammed against the stone floor, but it was a small comfort when the whole of his back felt like it had been brutalized by a sledgehammer. That kick he'd taken from the lady the day before had evidently wreaked havoc on his nerves, and when Jaune managed to gather the strength to lift his head, he caught Pyrrha looking down at him with concern written everywhere on her features.

"Maybe we should call it a day, Jaune? I think your injuries still need some time to fully heal," she said in what Jaune assumed was supposed to be a supportive tone, but he couldn't help but hear as condescending.

"I'm _fine,"_ he bit back, cursing himself inwardly at the flash of hurt that Pyrrha didn't manage to hide. "Sorry," he quickly added, somberly. "I didn't- you're not- ugh..." A sigh escaped him as shame crept into his stomach. "I'm just… sorry."

It wasn't Pyrrha he was angry at and she didn't deserve him taking it out on her, not when she was spending so much time helping him despite how big of a fraud he was.

Giving up the struggle against his legs, Jaune let himself collapse against the wall, Crocea Mors slipping from his sweat slickened grip with a clattering of steel on stone. A bead of perspiration ran down his creased brow, finding its way into his eye, and he wiped it away with the back of his now free hand, sweeping back his matted hair in the process. His body ached all over, and it wasn't just from the day before.

When Pyrrha settled down next time him, Jaune simply let out a deep sigh of disappointment and frustration at how little he fit in with people like her, Ren, Nora, or any of the girls in team RWBY. He felt more certain than ever regarding what he _wanted_ to do after dealing with people like Cardin and the racist couple, but at the same time, his fake transcripts plan was only looking more and more rash and downright stupid.

His attention was pulled to Pyrrha when he felt her hand gingerly brush across his cheek, checking on one of his many bruises. Their eyes met, and Jaune had to ask himself just how he'd managed to get someone as amazing as her as his partner for what had to be the hundredth time. Despite having every right to tell on him to the headmaster, getting him kicked out and letting her get a _proper_ partner instead, she was sitting here with him, helping him.

"I really don't deserve you, you know. The training, the secret-keeping, everything really… I shouldn't be here, dragging you and everyone else down with me," he chuckled dryly, entirely humorlessly, before looking away just as Pyrrha did the same, her cheeks far rosier than before.

"You're being too harsh on yourself, Jaune. There aren't a lot of people out there in the world who'd willingly risk their lives like you have done by coming here just because they feel like they need to do something for mankind. It's true your skills aren't exactly on par with everyone else's, but we've only just started. You're growing faster than most." She nudged his shoulder with her own as her expression turned contemplative for a second before her eyes lit up. " _And_ don't forget,if you had never come here to Beacon, you would never have been in Vale and therefore able to save that Faunus girl from those humans. If it weren't for you, she could have gotten seriously hurt, maybe even worse."

Jaune let Pyrrha's words hang in the air between them for a moment, a part of him half tempted to brush them off, but then he remember the look in Ilia's eyes when he'd handed her her bag, and a new sense of purpose found itself breaking free from the gloomy expanse of his thoughts.

Despite his back still stinging, a small smile quirked across Jaune's lips as he let the cool stone of the wall behind them seep into his muscles, relaxing them. The fire of determination in his gut had been lit anew after being temporarily doused by his lack of skill compared to Pyrrha, and his fingers found themselves coiling around the grip of Crocea Mors again.

"Ozpin is far wiser than either of us put together and he wouldn't have picked you to be our leader if he didn't think you were the best person for the job," Pyrrha added as she hoisted herself off the ground, extending her hand to him.

With a deep breath, Jaune intertwined their fingers and, with Pyrrha's help, got back onto his feet with only a slight grimace of pain. "Thanks," he said honestly. "For everything. You're the best partner anyone could ever imagine, and I'm gonna make sure not to let you down."

He was under no delusions regarding just how far he still had to go to catch up to anyone else at Beacon, but he could also feel that the only way he could truly _fail_ in the eyes of his partner and teammateswas if he gave up now. To showcase his new conviction, he tried to get into the ready-stance that Pyrrha had taught him, but the weight of the sword and shield in his hands was too much at this point, and all he managed to do was flail his arms with a tired grunt.

"I think that's your body's way of telling you that we should try this again tomorrow instead," Pyrrha giggled from the other side of the balcony. As much as it irked his pride to admit it, Jaune had to agree, collapsing Crocea Mors into its sheathed form.

Feeling even more sweat soak into his hoodie, he decided to simply tug it off entirely, leaving him in just a thin, previously white tank top that clung to his chest. He just barely caught Pyrrha's exclaimed _"Head's up!"_ before a bottle of water landed in his reflexively raised hand.

"Appreciate it," he mumbled absentmindedly as he regarded the bottle, eventually electing to take a single deep swig from it and then dump the rest of the liquid contents atop his head.

In the very same moment, the feeling of being _intently_ watched started scratching at the back of Jaune's mind, and he looked around at the windows of the towers around them. He definitely hoped that no one had watched his rather poor excuse for swordplay aside from Pyrrha, and despite the coast seemingly being clear, the feeling didn't go away.

"Hey Pyr, you didn't catch anyone watching us train, did you?" he asked over his shoulder, still looking at the surrounding towers for any sight of a spying presence.

Pyrrha—who unbeknownst to Jaune had been spending the last minute or so ogling the way his now all but transparent shirt outlined his torso—shook herself free of her thoughts long enough to let out a stammered "N-no!" before focusing her gaze on the very interesting way her feet were fidgeting, praying to all known and unknown deities throughout the history of Remnant that Jaune didn't notice her very fierce blush.

Despite what Pyrrha said, however, Jaune still couldn't help but think something was up. The feeling was only further solidified when he noticed a weird flickering near the top of one of the opposing towers, like there was something distorting the air...

Ultimately, he decided he was simply being paranoid, trusting the attentiveness of his partner even if he wasn't sure what his own eyes saw. Instead, he moved to pull on his hoodie again, only to remember his previous cooling-off-measures and how uncomfortable it'd be to put on something over his currently wet clothes.

"I think I'll stay out here for a bit. Try to relax and stretch while waiting for this thing to dry," Jaune said as he turned to face Pyrrha, tugging on the front of his tank top.

"G-got it. I'll see you later then," Pyrrha replied before quickly gathering up her gear and heading inside, forcing herself to keep her head and eyes looking straight ahead when she heard Jaune grunting. She was in no state of mind to stay and watch him go through the stretching routine she'd showed him, no matter how tempting the images her mind conjured up were.

Instinctively, she reached up and felt her nose, just to ensure that there wasn't blood running from it, her cheeks practically matching her as she finally left Jaune to himself.

XXX

After having spent the latter half of the previous day making her way around Beacon unnoticed, Ilia had had a lot more time to actually think about her actions as made her way around the school, now knowing the routes she should take to avoid detection. The weight and gravity of the measures she'd taken were settling in, how much time and effort she was spending simply to keep tabs on what amounted to just another human hunter-in-training. At one point, as she scaled the sheer wall of one of the towers, she went so far as to wonder if she was going a bit crazy.

But then, right as the thought hit, she'd glanced to look behind her where, on the other side of a window, she saw the one human who'd ever been nice to her, and her whole stomach lit up with that inexplicable warmth, wiping away any questions.

Jaune Arc absolutely needed to be watched because she simply couldn't get enough of the feelings that watching him brought up from deep inside her.

Deep down, Ilia knew that what she was doing was irrational, but she'd been so emotionally burned out these past couple of weeks that she simply couldn't care. Somehow, Jaune made her feel nice things, and recently that had become a scarcity for her, so she had become deadset on savoring it now that she had the chance. Just like the day before, after he'd helped her, seeing Jaune smile or laugh made butterflies flutter throughout Ilia's stomach, accompanied with a longing to be the one said smiles and laughter was directed at rather than his teammates or _friends_.

Just remembering the scene she'd stumbled on was enough to make Ilia frown, her eyes flicking down to her scroll on which she'd recorded numerous _notes_ regarding the people that Jaune had surrounded himself with. Most of which pertained to the _females_ of his circle of friends ( _a collection of people that Ilia absolutely_ _ **refused**_ _to think of as '_ _ **competition**_ _', the word all but banished from her word catalog, much to the delight of her chaos-feeding mind gremlin_ ).

Chief interest among them was one Weiss Schnee, an _individual_ who Ilia had already harbored many negative feelings towards due to her obvious familial relations, but had recently made her way to the very top of the Faunus' rather short but important 'people-who-deserve-several-swift-kicks-in-the-bloody-shins' list ( _patent pending_ ).

For some ungodly reason, the pompous heiress had somehow earned Jaune's attention in ways that did _not at all_ make Ilia feel pangs of jealousy ( _no sir!_ ), and instead of cherishing every minute she could spend with him around, the special snowflake of a Schnee instead told him off at seemingly every given opportunity.

The dejected looks that Ilia had seen on Jaune's face after he'd spent any time talking to Weiss were almost enough for her to want to blow her cover, and it was only the knowledge that Adam had very _special plans_ _—violent_ plans—in mind for _every_ member of the Schnee family after the Faunus uprising had officially begun that made her restrain her fury.

_Why_ exactly Jaune thought that the Schnee heiress was worthy of his time, Ilia had yet to understand, but her preliminary findings were still plausible enough to conduct further experiments.

" _Jaune Arc attention grabbers(?):_  
Long hair.  
Short?

_Family history of Faunus exploitation?_

_Skirts._

_Riches?_

_Lack of **development**?"_

Rereading her list, Ilia looked down at herself, considering her own _assets,_ or lack thereof,for a moment before she had a sobering thought.

' _Never imagined I'd be so relieved to be a B-cup… also, I need to get a skirt...'_

As the afternoon sun began to shine its rays over the impressive structures that made up Beacon academy, Ilia felt a twinge of disappointment well up inside of her that she'd have to leave the school to conduct the actual reconnaissance that she'd been tasked with, but then, just as she'd started to prepare her exit strategy, the sound of a door opening reached her ears, and as she turned her eyes to check whether she needed to hide or not, a very familiar head of blonde hair stepped into view.

Ilia watched with rapt attention has Jaune and his partner, the world renowned Pyrrha Nikos, walked out onto a balcony of which she had a perfect view of. What they spoke of, she couldn't make out, but before long they got into positions that she immediately recognized as sparring stances. Why they weren't training in one of the academy's facilities, she didn't know, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth either. Not when said horse took the shape of being allowed to watch Jaune in action again.

For the next two hours, Ilia sat fixated at the simultaneously enrapturing and vexing display that was Jaune Arc sparring with Pyrrha Nikos, her hands clenching whenever Jaune stumbled or made a poor move. Even from her vantage point, Ilia could easily tell that he wasn't acting with the practiced ease that a student at Beacon _should_ be, that he lacked the coordination that she'd consider crucial for someone training to fight Grimm, and he struggled far more than he aught to be against someone who clearly wasn't putting their all into their fight.

It was confusing, to say the least, and only made more so by the fact that Ilia could tell there was something _else_ going on beneath all the mistakes. She was a person who _knew_ how to fight, far better than most in fact, and as such, seeing Jaune keep getting up after his mistakes were punished with surgical precision by his partner, especially considering the beating she'd watched him receive the day before, baffled her. What the boy lacked in skill, he almost entirely made up with endurance the likes of which would put fully trained and hardened White Fang members to shame, and every time he fell, Ilia could _feel_ that he'd learned something from it. Anyone else that she knew of would have simply stayed down after the third or fourth defeat, but not him. She'd lost count of how many times he'd been brought down only to rise up straight away.

As Jaune finally sank to the ground and stayed there, Ilia felt as if she'd seen something impossible. There were hundreds of questions buzzing around in her head, but before she could find any answers to them, something else caught her attention.

Something that she recognized, even if she didn't want to.

Whenever Pyrrha Nikos looked at her partner, there was an unmissable veil of longing shining from her expression, and despite her best efforts, it didn't quite go away when Jaune looked at her. Whether he had noticed and was ignoring it willfully or if he was somehow unaware, Ilia had no idea, but one thing was very, very obvious to her;

Pyrrha Nikos had _feelings_ for Jaune Arc.

And the reason Ilia could tell was because she had seen that very same expression on her _own_ features whenever she'd looked in a mirror after being around Blake Belladonna...

By now, it had almost been a full day since the ebon-haired Faunus had entered Ilia's thoughts, something she hadn't even truly noticed with everything that had happened with Jaune, but her return made a feeling almost akin to retching rise up Ilia's spine, her hands curling into fists and jaw tightening until her teeth started to hurt. All of it was unwelcome, _unneeded,_ but despite closing her eyes and doing her best to clear her head, the feelings and thoughts remained.

Anger erupted within Ilia's chest as her attempts at finding equilibrium failed, washing her emotional plate clear for a moment. It was the unfairness of it all that she found herself focused on, how Blake had been allowed to simply leave without any signs of distress—like she hadn't ever _cared_ —while Ilia was left with all these untethered and blood-raw emotions.

It simply wasn't fair.

Nothing in her life was, she was slowly coming to realize, and she hated it.

She had to wonder if the foul taste of betrayal would ever wash out of her mouth.

As these thoughts threatened to forever blacken Ilia's heart, she glimpsed down at the balcony again just in time to see Jaune getting up off the ground, his posture changed from just a minute earlier. He stood straighter, with more purpose, and for whatever reason, the sight begun to resonate like a struck cord within Ilia's turmoil filled heart.

Again and again, she'd watched him fall, but he didn't let himself be kept down. He didn't give up, despite the clear gap in skill there was between him and his partner. To Ilia, it felt downright inspirational. She was instantly reminded of how he'd looked the day before; bloodied but _unbroken,_ with that smile that was more genuine than anything she'd seen before.

If Jaune could get back up again after getting beat down, so could she, Ilia realized. She unfortunately didn't know him well enough to understand all his own thoughts and emotions, but something deep in her heart told her that he wouldn't want Blake to control her like this, no matter how deep of a wound she had caused when she'd left.

All of a sudden, Ilia felt as if a great weight had been lifted off her back, like her breathing was now easier and her eyes had become clearer. Something had clicked again, and the chains that had kept her from moving forward from Blake had been shattered in an instant.

She felt free.

And all from witnessing the resolve of a human who had risked his own safety to for her sake.

What had once been a massive, impossibly realistic, and exquisitely radiant painting of a young man with golden-blonde hair and eyes the color of deepest of oceans inside of Ilia's mindscape was at once transformed. No longer was the shirtless stud contained within canvas and frame; instead, there now stood a statue so grand and impressive that it would have had people come from far and wide to leave gifts and offerings to what had to be a deity of masculinity and glory were it to actually exist in real life. Perfectly cut marble, the likes of which not even the greatest artisan on Remnant could have chiseled, gleamed and glinted in the shine of a heavenly light from on high, every single breathtakingly beautiful detail from the painting made three dimensional. Warmth, safety, hope, inspiration, all were exuded from the statue.

It was a dream that was too good to be true, but at the same time, to Ilia felt entirely accurate when it faded away, melting into the image of Jaune Arc looking down at a water bottle in his hand.

It was then that time caught up to the chameleonic Faunus, and she realized fully what she was looking at. For once, there was no fantasy playing out before her mind's eye, she was actually looking at Jaune, in the flesh, with his big hoodie on the balcony beside him. In a flash, Ilia had a pair of binoculars in her hands, focusing intently on the incredibly distracting way that Jaune's arms shifted and moved minutely with every breath he took. A light sheen covered his exposed skin, and it only helped to accentuate the muscles she could clearly tell were being grown throughout his body. There was strength within those arms, the kind that had always existed but never been truly used until very recently, and Ilia observed them carefully as they worked to bring the bottle of water to their owner's lips.

What happened next all but caused Ilia's heart to skip and entire minute's worth of beats, all the while her brain simultaneously fried itself like a server farm being hit by a firehose.

What had just been a clingy, damp tank top only a second earlier suddenly turned almost entirely transparent when Jaune decided to empty a water bottle atop his head, drenching his entire upper body and making Ilia catch herself on the tower she was sat atop lest she fall right off it. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen a half-nude man before, the relatively small size of the White Fang hideouts she'd all but grown up in hadn't exactly had privacy or modesty as a chief concern, but something about seeing _Jaune_ in such a state, and not just in her head for once, was so very different.

Never had she appreciated how _wide_ a boy's shoulders were before, nor how _solidly_ built their chests could be, or simply how _big_ they often got compared to her, but she most definitely was now. Unlike the imagine that her subconscious had conjured up for her, Jaune's entire body wasn't made up entirely of rippling muscles the likes of which could crush stones between them, but in a way, the _real thing_ made her stomach tingle far more. This wasn't the body of a seasoned warrior, instead it was a firm foundation from which said warrior could be forged like a sword by a master blacksmith. And Ilia liked the look of it. Liked the look of _him._

_A lot._

So much so that Ilia only had a fraction of a second to duck down when he realized that Jaune was looking right at her hiding spot, her eyes wide and hands clamped over her mouth to contain the squeak that hap almost escaped her lungs. For a full minute, she just laid on her back, hardly breathing, as what she had seen replayed itself over and over again in her head. Had she looked down at herself, she would have seen the spots covering her dusty brown complexion practically _glowing_ a hot reddish-pink, but she remained entirely frozen, vehemently ignoring the small trickle of drool that had begun to dribble down her cheek sometime ago.

Once the shock had mostly faded, she very slowly rose up into a sitting position, eyes just glancing for the briefest of seconds down to where Jaune was now stretching before her head snapped around and she focused on the sky in the opposite direction.

' _Holy shit...'_ she thought as her hands finally moved away form her mouth and down to her stomach where she felt a completely foreign _throb_ shoot through her, the temperature all around her feeling as if it had risen by several hundreds of degrees. The little gremlin in her mind whispered in her ear about how she should look back down again, make sure that Jaune was still there, but she couldn't risk being caught like that again. Not when seeing Jaune in this _state_ did so many _strange_ things to her.

Ilia wasn't entirely sure how long she spent sitting and looking anywhere that wasn't in Jaune's direction, but when she finally heard the distinct sound of a door being shut, she chanced a glance over her shoulder and was both relieved and disappointed to see that Jaune had returned inside. As strange as he was making her feel, deep down, it all felt _good_ in a way, and losing 'access' to it was less than fun.

With a groan, she stretched her back out until she felt a satisfying pop and rose onto her sore legs. She hadn't noticed just how rigid her whole body had become after sitting still for hours, but now she regretted not getting up sooner. She couldn't exactly go back and change her actions though, so now she had to live with the consequences.

It was getting fairly late, and Ilia knew it was time for her to get back to her _actual_ mission now that Jaune had finished his training and the chances of her spotting him again were pretty slim. Doing a final stretch to limber up her arms, she began to descend from her 'perch', making sure to follow the same route she'd taken when climbing up. For such a prestigious academy, she was kind of surprised at how easy it was to bypass the alarms and guards, but she figured it was an ego thing. With some many hunters and combat-ready students, the headmaster probably thought they didn't _need_ the kind of security that might have made her job difficult. Not that she was complaining though. Lax security meant she was able to focus more of her attentions on more _important subjects_ rather than making sure no one spotted her.

A small shiver tip-toed up Ilia spine as she remembered how _broad_ and _strong_ Jaune's shoulders had looked when he'd taken of his hoodie.

' _Man… I wonder how it would feel to wrap your legs around those…?'_ she pondered for a split second, before _immediately_ pushing the idea out of her head when she almost slipped out of one of her footholds. _'No! None of that! Not now! But maybe later… when you're back at base… and alone...'_ Unknowingly, Ilia's teeth latched onto her bottom lip at the prospect, her markings once again a radiant hue of red.

At this point, she wasn't sure what she was doing anymore, or where her actions were taking her, and at some level that should have worried her, she knew that, but it just… _didn't._ Not really. Not when she could simply imagine the smile of her 'savior' and be filled with a sense of comfort.

Nevertheless, one thing Ilia knew for certain was that she was going clothes shopping whenever she got a chance.

' _Need to buy a skirt… and maybe put my ponytail on the side...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now comes the tricky part; where do we go from here? First off, I'd really like to know if you guys enjoy the level of humor that has been on display in these two chapters so far. When I originally thought up this idea, it was a lot more... crack-y, if that makes sense, but I am rather new to writing funny shit, so I abandoned that route since I couldn't get the timing right, I felt. The result is a mix of some "serious" moments and then jokes, mostly at Ilia's expense, but if you guys think I should lean into either side more, I'd very much like to hear your opinions.
> 
> Secondly, seeing as I haven't got a roadmap for this story yet, I'd love to hear any and all suggestions for scenes that might make it into future chapters (with the exception of Blake and Ilia confrontations, since that moment I do have planned fully already), and what kind of direction you think would make for the more enjoyable story; a complete romantic comedy, or something with a bit more meat to it?
> 
> Please leave your ideas and thoughts in the reviews. Have a good one!


	3. Shops shops shops shops shops shops shops shops shops shops shops shops shops! Everybody!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After seven months of writers block and general bullshittery, the story can finally continue!

"Pardon my intrusion, miss, but I couldn't help but notice that you look a bit lost. Do you perhaps need some help?"

Ilia nearly leaped right out of her skin when she heard the amused sounding voice coming from behind her, and she had to force herself to not look tense like a rod of iron when swiveled on the spot to face the admittedly kind looking horse Faunus that had just addressed her. She looked to be in her early forties with light crinkles around her bright, sea-green eyes, her hair an elegant and unquestionably beautiful weave of deep blueish-purple, a pair of equine ears poking out from within the stylishly curled mane. Her delicate hands were clasped in front of what Ilia only could describe as a modified kitchen apron with what had to be at least a hundred different pockets, each every one of which seemingly containing some manner of knickknack that could be used while sewing. Behind her, Ilia could just barely make out a tail in the same style as her hair, curling thrice into something akin to a screw.

Ilia first instinct was to simply reply with a flat _no_ and try to find a more secluded section of the boutique where she'd be less noticeable—and, more importantly, _alone—_ but deep down she knew that the older Faunus was absolutely right. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing, what she was looking for exactly, and being in such an unfamiliar environment put her on edge far more than she'd ever like to admit.

After all, this was just a bloody _clothing store,_ not some kind of Schnee-family stronghold.

That said, actually finding this shop had taken what felt like the better part of an _entire_ _day_ for Ilia. She'd set off that morning with the intention of going on he quick _errand_ before returning to her Vale reconnaissance since she'd spent the past week steadily falling back into the routine of working on her missions every waking hour that she could _(a task she did less out of any real desire to finish the_ _assignment_ _and more to get Adam_ _to stop hounding her for updates_ _again and again…_ _),_ but those lofty dreams had been quickly discarded when she'd approached one of the most popular clothing outlets in Vale and she had immediately realized that the mere idea of going shopping in a human owned and/or staffed store—especially not when what she was _hunting_ for was so… _private_ _—_ utterly _mortified_ her. So she had to go scouting for something else.

When she'd seemingly found a place exclusively operated by Faunus, however, another problem had arisen, that being the amount of other customers already inside of it; _Human customers._ What she was _procuring_ was a highly _delicate_ matter, and so she had to abandon this store too in favor of one less crowded.

Hours later, Ilia _finally_ found herself here, in a quaint little clothing boutique located on the far- _far_ side of Vale, right next door to a comic book shop, where she was the sole visitor at the moment. She'd passed store after store after store to get to this one, each and every one until now having some kind of problem that made shopping there impossible. She refused to spend money on a place that was supplied by the Schnees or any similarly _infamous_ groups, so that cut out a rather frustrating amount of places, but then it couldn't be too expensive either, seeing as her budget was rather limited, or cheap enough that it might rip or tear for that matter, since she was absolutely _not_ going on this kind of trip again _anytime_ soon.

Finally, the last big hurdle—that she totally hadn't anticipated—was that she couldn't shop somewhere that had White Fang connections, something that more than a few Faunus owned establishments had, since that _might_ leave a trail back to her, somehow, and she simply couldn't risk it. This ultimately narrowed her search down to this sole, out-of-the-way shop.

' _Why oh why did you have to convince yourself you needed to buy some damn skirts?'_ the more or less rational side of Ilia's brain asked, a question that Ilia-prime didn't have an immediate answer for.

Or, at least, not an answer that _didn't_ include the flashing of the unforgettable image of a certain _smile_ in her head, followed by a big, bouncy ball of _warmth_ forming in her stomach, and she had to dismiss all of those since that _couldn't_ be the sole reason…

Right…?

Getting back to the matter at hand, Ilia refocused on the shop owner and gave her an apologetic, albeit rigid smile. "That's… probably pretty accurate, honestly. It's been a long time since I went looking for clothes in a place like this," she explained bashfully.

The horse Faunus let out a soft, yet simultaneously regal sound chuckle and nodded her head sagely. "Don't you worry, darling, I understand. These days, when everyone can simply order most things off of their scrolls, it's only natural that things such as picking out an outfit in person becomes more 'difficult'. Is there anything in particular that you're looking for today?"

"Kinda, but also not really?" Ilia replied, restlessly shifting from side to side where she stood. When the shopkeeper motioned for her to continue, she had to take a deep breath to steady herself. "I'm… looking for a skirt, or a few, but I've never actually _worn_ one before and I don't know what would, you know, look good on me..."

If Remnant's shattered moon came falling down right at this moment, turning the whole planet into a burned out wasteland, Ilia wouldn't have minded it considering just how awkward she felt explaining her 'mission' to the older Faunus. It was just supposed to be clothes shopping, but for some infernal reason it all felt _terribly_ embarrassing and made her long for the sweet embrace of death now that she'd committed herself.

The only reason as to _why_ it was so uncomfortable for her she could imagine was the article of clothing in question that she was after, and how it was far more _girly_ than anything she'd worn before, being so used to her White Fang uniform and its lack of ' _femininity enhancement'._

There was, of course, another probable cause for her distress, but she blindly ignored it, no matter how much the warm sensation in her belly grew when the gremlin living in her head tried to pull her attention towards the prospect of being _seen_ by a certain someone wearing one of these skirts. Nope, nuh uh, she didn't spare the possibility a single thought.

If Ilia's explanation seemed at all ridiculous to the shopkeeper, she didn't show it, instead looking over the nervous chameleon with a downright _analytical_ eye before a big smile split her features and she clapped her hands together excitedly.

"Oh, it's always such fun to help someone find a new style for themselves. I know exactly what you need, darling. Here, come with me and we'll get you looking breathtaking in no time~."

Ilia didn't have the chance to so much as open her mouth before she was being pulled along deeper into the store to a section that, admittedly, had a lot more feminine looking apparel than what she'd been checking out before. Her arms were quickly filled with a heap of different articles of clothing, everything from skirts to blouses to jackets and even stockings, with Ilia unable to protest. She was then ushered into one of the changing stalls with the older Faunus' sing-song voice rolling over the divider.

"Everything in there should go wonderfully together, so please mix and match to your hearts desire!" She seemed to realize something mid-sentence, as she made a frustrated sound. "My word, just where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself yet! You can call me Rityra and I'm the owner of this darling little boutique. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to call for me."

With that, Ilia was left to her own devices inside the changing room, eyes blinking as she tried to replay the sequence of events that got her into this situation. When that failed, she looked to the pile of clothes in her arms and, with a sigh, resigned herself to her 'fate'. This _was_ why she'd come to this store after all, and while things hadn't exactly gone to plan, it'd be stupid of her to not take advantage of Rityra's seeming expertise, _eccentric_ as she may have been.

The only question Ilia had to ask herself now was where the hell was she supposed to start, a decision that was more or less made for her when she put down her clothes pile on one of the benches in the fortunately spacious stall and one of the skirts slid onto the floor.

For an embarrassingly long moment, all Ilia could do was stare at the circular piece of fabric, her stomach churning at the prospect of trying it on.

"C'mon, girl. It's just a damn _skirt._ It's not going to _bite_ you," she hissed at herself, eventually reaching down to pick it up.

All in all, it was a rather simple little thing. Soft to the touch, red in color, and it looked like it would reach to just around her kneecaps. No intricate patterns, no lace-work, nothing _fancy_ at all, really. A skirt, nothing more, nothing less.

With a sigh that was far heavier than Ilia would ever acknowledge, she kicked off her shoes, tugged off her pants, and then stepped into the skirt, securing it around her waist with a button she only now noticed. She allowed herself to take a second to get a 'feel' for this new garment, twisting and turning on the spot to see herself from different angles, and almost immediately, she had to suppress the urge to squirm her legs against one another as the air hit her thighs. It felt… _weird._ Really, really weird. Borderline uncomfortable even, and for a short moment, Ilia was all but ready to abandon this whole excursion since she had a very hard time imaging herself getting used to this new _feeling_ that came with wearing a skirt.

That's when she finally glanced behind her and noticed her petite form in the full length mirror on the other side of the changing room, and she got to see the way that the skirt accentuated her legs, the one part of her body she'd always considered her best feature.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Ilia unconsciously posed herself so that the skirt would fan out more over her thighs, and at the same time, the most _insidious_ of thoughts entered her mind, in which she couldn't help but imagine what kind of _reaction_ being seen in an outfit that included a skirt like this might usher from a certain _someone._ How said person's eyes might widen while his gaze traveled along her lean, smooth, _strong_ legs and how said eyes would get hotter and hotter until her skin would be practically smoldering from being _observed_ oh so very intently...

"Oh my! You look simply _marvelous_ in that, darling~!"

This time, Ilia _did_ jump when she was addressed by Rityra again, scrambling back against the wall of the dressing room while her skin flashed a bright, startled yellow.

"Please forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you so, but you weren't answering me when I asked how things were going in here and I got worried that there might have been an accident," Rityra was quick to explain with a genuinely remorseful voice, obviously noting how shaken she'd made her customer.

While Ilia's mouth was opening and closing to respond, no sound was coming out of it at first, and when she noticed, she cleared her throat awkwardly as she peeled herself from the wall and willed her heart to stop hammering like blacksmith that had just snorted a whole line of lightning dust.

"N-no worries, I'm fine, really," she finally managed to answer, embarrassment wrapping hotly around her neck from how she had zero recollection of hearing someone call for her just now.

Her thoughts were becoming dangerous. And sneaky. Cunningly brutal, one might even say.

Rityra nodded while she cast another long look up and down Ilia's figure, a feisty smile tugging at her lips. "In that case, I'll leave you to continue your try-on session. And I must say, with legs like those and a skirt like that to show them off, you'll be turning heads left and right. Whoever is lucky enough for you to consider wearing one is a _very_ lucky person," she said with a _very_ knowing wink before disappearing from the dressing room.

Were Ilia to turn around to the mirror again, she would be met with the spots on her skin all but glowing with a fiery pink that was being matched by her cheeks as well, the faraway echoes of a gremlin-like laugh bouncing around her head. Rather than acknowledging _anything_ that Rityra had said just now, she instead started digging through her clothes pile, looking for something else to try on that might bring a pair of deep, ocean blue eyes towards her, filling her with that _warmt-_

' _No! None of that! Shame on you!'_ Ilia shouted mentally at her increasingly deviant thoughts, shaking her head so that she might make them fall out through her ear where she could stomp them to bits before _something_ happened that might make her want to hide out in the Atlesian mountains until the end of time.

Taking off the skirt and putting it aside so that she didn't forget it later, Ilia started pulling random articles of clothing from her carefully picked out pile and busied herself by trying them on one after another, seeing what went together and what _really_ didn't work on her ( _like when she put her hair up in a faux side-ponytail while wearing a white dress totally as a joke, definitely not trying to emulate anyone, and found herself all but repulsed by the results_ ). Rityra returned every once in a while to give her thoughts as well as suggestions, and while Ilia appreciated the help, 'fashionably challenged' as she was, she could definitely do without the implication-filled comments that the store owner kept leaving.

" _Have you ever considered wearing stockings? Maybe even garters? I can tell you from experience that boys **love** that look~..."_

" _Nono, that won't do. Not **bold** enough, dear. Not **captivating** enough~..."_

" _Big sweaters are actually perfect if you want to surprise someone by wearing something **wonderfully risque** underneath it. It will leave that **special someone** totally **stunned** , trust me~."_

The fact that Rityra seemed to be able to read her so damn easily both annoyed and absolutely terrified Ilia, especially when she had pretty much told the fashionista _nothing_ about herself or her _motivations_ at the moment. If she was really _that_ obvious, then meeting Jaune again was completely out of the question, since things would undoubtedly become awkward.

But at the same time, she had to vehemently insist to herself that it wouldn't matter anyways. After all, she was just _grateful_ towards Jaune for helping her, simple as that. Anything _more_ than that would just be silly!

The last thing that Ilia tried on before she'd finally reached the end of what Rityra had picked out for her was a pleated, dark gray skirt that went down to her knees with a yellow-ish sunburst pattern spreading over her right thigh. It was airier than any of the other ones she'd tried before, but still didn't feel like it was about to flip up at a moments notice. To go along with it, Rityra recommended a lighter gray, long sleeved shirt that only barely covered her shoulders. When she spun around to see how the fabric moved, the shirt shifted to the side, hanging only on her left shoulder while the other was now bared. Much to her surprise, Ilia actually found herself liking the look more and more the longer she looked at herself in the mirror, and before she could think about it for too long, she brought out her scroll and took a picture of herself, only her eyes visible over the scroll's rim. She spent another few minutes just feeling out the ensemble some more, and by the end, she was certain this was her favorite of the outfits she'd tried on today. Wearing it made her feel _different,_ less self-conscious somehow.

More _normal,_ even. Like she was just an ordinary Faunus girl, not a White Fang operative. The kind of girl that be anyone or do anything.

The kind of girl who could be _with_ anyone, Faunus or not...

When Ilia finally left the boutique, a big bag of new clothes clutched tightly against her chest and her wallet a fair amount of lien lighter, it had started raining. Naturally, Ilia had neglected to look at any weather forecasts before setting out that morning, so she was left having to brave the elements as she started walking back to the hideout, and despite the rainfall not being _that_ heavy in all honesty, it took only a couple minutes before she was repressing shivers from the cold seeping into her skin from her soaked clothes.

"Stupid reptile genes..." she muttered to herself, taking a momentary break underneath a conveniently placed awning, simultaneously making sure that her 'precious cargo' was doing okay by opening her bag for a split second before closing it back up again, head shooting from side to side to make sure no one had seen her.

The coast was clear, fortunately—as was her newly acquired clothes—the city around her totally devoid of people, be they Faunus or human, with the sole exception of a single person further down the street she'd just come from. As she was just about to continue making her way back to the base, however, she was stopped by the loud rumble of thunder and her very soul felt as if it shriveled up when the very heavens above opened up and the rain that had been not so bad just moments before turned into an absolute _torrent_ of falling water.

A deep, _deep_ sigh fell from her lips, and Ilia wasn't sure what, if anything, could make her current situation less pleasant.

It was at that very moment that Ilia Amitola heard a noise, and for the third time that day, she was frozen absolutely solid due to a surprise voice coming from behind her. Unlike before, however, this was a voice that was simultaneously _dreadful_ and utterly _wonderful_ to hear again.

"Hey, long time no see, Ilia!" the one and only Jaune Arc called out to her.

For a moment, during which her body remained as still as a statue, breath caught squarely in the middle of her throat, the chameleonic Faunus didn't know whether she should turn around and greet the boy that had been so resoundingly stuck in her head ever since she met him back or just sprint into the nearest alleyway and hide in a dumpster until she was sure she was alone again—or until she died from how fast her heart was beating all of a sudden, whichever came first.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily depending on how one looked at it, she didn't have to make that choice, as the aforementioned boy that had caused so many foreign emotions within Ilia jogged up next to her, collapsing the big, red umbrella he'd been carrying. Only now was she able to will herself to turn her head to look at him, and her grip on the bag in her arms increased tenfold when she was immediately met with _that_ _damn_ _smile,_ and her whole chest became the sudden owner of its very own personal blast furnace that dispelled any trace of the chill that she'd started to feel from the rain while her cheeks and ears turned so red-hot that Ilia wouldn't have been surprised if steam started to rise up all around her.

"H-hi..." she replied meekly, dying internally from how damn _pathetic_ she sounded to herself. Swallowing down the nerves in her stomach that were _definitely_ not butterflies or anything of the sort, she tried again. "Nice to see you again, Jaune."

XXX

In the span of just a couple of minutes, Jaune Arc decided that today was, in fact, _not_ a bad day, changing the opinion that he'd had for the majority of the afternoon. Sure, he might have gotten shoved into his locker by Cardin right as he'd been about to find a bathroom and then spent a very uncomfortable hour just focusing on not wetting himself, and said misadventure might have subsequently lead to him being berated about the values of tardiness by professor Goodwitch for what felt like an eternity when he'd finally arrived a good 45 minutes late to her class. And yes, it was also true that his trip to Vale had been more or less wasted since the new issue of X-Ray and Vav he had been looking to buy was totally sold out absolutely everywhere in the city it seemed, including in the store he'd just exited that shared a wall with one of those old-timey looking clothing shops that he remembered his sisters never passing up the opportunity to visit when they were younger. If one added up all those miserable events into one day, it would definitely seem like a shitty one.

 _However,_ none of those things felt as unfortunate all of a sudden when he spotted the hazel-brown hair and distinctly spotted complexion of someone he'd been hoping to run into ever since he'd forgotten to share any contact info with.

The relief that Jaune felt when the girl he'd reflexively called after stopped and he was able see that yes, it _was_ in fact Ilia and not just some other random person was paramount to what he'd been feeling when first reading his Beacon acceptance letter. Not about to make the same mistake of not giving her his scroll number again, he immediately made his was over to her and when she turned and he heard her voice again, it was like music to his ears. The fact that she remembered his name was just another pleasant bonus.

"Man am I glad I ran into you again," he laughed with his smile as beaming as ever. "How have you been? You haven't had any more, uh, _problems_ like last time have you?" he quickly added, genuine concern in his voice. It was a forward thing to ask, he realized after the fact, so it was no small weight off his back when Ilia shook her head no. "Good, good. That's... good."

Silence settled over them for a short moment, the pitter patter of the rain hitting the awning above them punctuating the quiet. It made Jaune feel awkward, and as such, he started nervously scratching the back of his head. Their previous meeting had been so relatively short and _strange_ that he didn't know _how_ exactly he should talk to Ilia, where exactly they stood in regards to one another, but at the same time he was determined to not let this opportunity go to waste. Not when they odds of them running into one another again was practically nonexistent.

"Hey, um, sorry. About just running off like that the other day, I mean. I totally lost track of time and would've gotten stuck in Vale all night long if I hadn't caught that bullhead. Still pretty rude of me though." Jaune's smile turned apologetic as he spoke.

"No need to apologize, I get it. And things are fine," Ilia replied with a small giggle. "Shame about this weather though."

It was only when she mentioned the rain threatening to drench them from head to toe that Jaune noticed how _damp_ his 'companion' looked, as well as the lack of any umbrellas on her person, conveniently missing the way Ilia cringed at herself for the topic of conversation she brought up.

"You could say that again. I definitely need to remember to thank my partner about a hundred times for insisting I bring this with me," he said, gesturing to his umbrella before continuing, "Speaking of which, I don't really see this rain letting up anytime soon, and since I kind of owe you a rain-check more or less, heh, and this thing can definitely fit two people underneath it, would you like to, you know…?" again, Jaune gave his umbrella a shake.

Thankfully, Ilia quickly picked up on what he was implying, and while she looked uncertain for split second, it only took one glance out at the sheet of water beyond the edge of the awning for her to nod at him quickly. "That'd be great actually. Thank you".

Jaune resisted the urge to fist-pump vigorously at his successful gamble to spend more time with the Faunus girl, merely continuing to grin as he walked up next to Ilia and without having to say another word, the two of them set off together down the rainy streets of Vale.

Despite his claims about the size of his umbrella, Jaune realized rather quickly it wasn't actually _that_ big. It served its purpose, keeping them dry, but he couldn't exactly _ignore_ how his arm would brush against Ilia's own every couple of steps. He wanted to apologize at first, but when she didn't seem to mind it, he held his tongue. It wasn't everyday he got to walk side by side with a pretty girl, and if it was okay with her, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. For the most part, they wandered in silence, but this time around it felt much more natural than the one they'd shared under the awning, at least to Jaune. If nothing else, it didn't make him feel nervous. The quiet was broken, however, when he caught sight of one of the comic book shops he'd visited earlier in the day and he simply couldn't resist the urge to complain about how he'd been running around town the whole afternoon looking for the new X-Ray and Vav issue without success.

As it turns out, that was something they shared in common; an appreciation for comic books. For Jaune, this was a delightful revelation, and he happily spent the next couple of blocks of their journey asking about what kind of things Ilia liked to read, incredibly grateful that they had something to talk about. He learned quickly that she didn't have much free time, being a member of some kind of activist group from what he could gather, with most of her days spent working on assignments from said group. She still managed to find opportunities to keep up to date on a couple of series though, and with the exception of one, Jaune recognized all of them, letting their conversation continue without another lapse of silence.

Before he knew it, Jaune was regaling Ilia with stories about his home town, about the many weekends he'd spent in the old but awesome comic store within running distance of his house, the hours he'd spent exploring the forests around there, and of course the countless antics his sisters and he had gotten up to growing up. Like most people he'd met since leaving up, Ilia's first reaction to learning about his many siblings was shocked surprise, remarking that growing up with seven sisters sounded crazy, and Jaune was more than happy to describe just how correct that assumption was.

"How about you? What does your family look like?" he asked eventually, realizing that he'd probably been doing a bit too much talking the last couple of minutes.

Unfortunately, Ilia seemed to deflate a bit at his question, eyes turning down towards the cobblestone beneath them. This was definitely not the reaction that Jaune had expected and he felt worry start creeping up his back, hoping dearly that he hadn't just said the worst possible thing.

"I… don't really have one. Not like yours, at least," she said somberly. "Both my parents died when I was little and I've spent most of my life with the Fa- _organization._ They're the closest thing I have to a family."

"Oh..." was all that Jaune could reply with.

He didn't think about it often, but it was moments like these that made him realize how lucky he was for never having lost any family members, especially in a world like theirs, where Grimm and wars had taken the lives of so many across the ages. He genuinely couldn't imagine the pain of growing up without a mom _or_ dad, the thought alone making his stomach churn with uncertainty. But he knew he couldn't just go quiet, not when he was the one to bring up the subject and Ilia had decided to share her story with him.

"That's… awful. Just, really, really awful. I'm sorry, for what it's worth. No one should have to go through something like that." Before he could stop himself, Jaune reached down and gave Ilia's hand what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. Immediately, he felt her tense up at the gesture, making him curse inwardly, and he was just about to apologize again for overstepping his boundaries when Ilia's fingers started moving, lacing themselves together with his own, returning the squeeze.

All of a sudden, Jaune's throat felt terribly dry and hot, a feeling that swiftly spread to his cheeks and then his chest, making his head turn to look straight ahead. This was… _unexpected,_ but definitely in a good way.

Had he actually turned back to Ilia, he would have noticed that her spots were almost glowing with pink color and her cheeks were as rosy as his own.

It wasn't until they'd returned to the center of Vale that their hands parted, and if Jaune was honest with himself, he missed the feeling right away, but that was something he kept decidedly to himself. After walking like that for a while though, he now, _finally,_ felt comfortable doing something he really should have done when they first met.

"Hey Ilia? Before I forget, would you mind if I asked you for your scroll number? I honestly wanted to ask you last time, but I totally forgot when I had to run for the Bullhead. You seem really, you know, nice and stuff, and I'd love to get to know you better, maybe even meet up some time again?"

Realizing how weird he might have sounded just now, considering that the two of them had only met _once_ before and it was over a week ago since it happened, Jaune's expression turned unmistakably nervous. He still really didn't know how to approach people about this kind of stuff, much less girls, a fact that his many interactions with Weiss had proven succinctly. The advice his dad had given when talking to the 'fairer' sex had _not_ been _nearly_ as effective as he'd hoped...

Jaune's enthusiasm for exchanging contacts, however, was apparently _more_ than shared by Ilia, as evidenced by the shopping bag she'd been practically cradling in her free arm falling to the pavement as she dug through her pockets and brought out her scroll at speeds which could only really be described as hyper-sonic, offering it to him.

"I-I'd love to!" she practically shouted, almost making Jaune fall backwards in surprise from her sudden _switch_. She seemed to recognize her behavior, however, gathering herself just as fast as she'd changed. "That sounds good to me," she said, not acknowledging her outburst in the slightest.

Not wanting to make anything more awkward, Jaune elected to follow her lead, tapping his scroll against her own. Seconds later, a happy chirp sounded from both scrolls, and when Jaune looked at his, he saw the name 'Ilia Amitola' along with a number listed as a new contact on the screen.

Just as he was to turn his attentions back to Ilia herself, however, he noticed the bag that she'd dropped in her hurry to get her phone out. She apparently noticed his eyes, as her own turned downwards as well, the two of them staring blankly at the shopping bag, one of them unsure what exactly he should do while the other was utterly mortified.

It was Jaune who eventually moved first, bending down and picking up the bag, doing his best to keep his curiosity since he'd learned from a very young age that looking in ladies' bags, whatever the scenario, was very rude. Despite himself, however, he couldn't help but catch a slight glance at its contents, seeing what he assumed was clothing, before suddenly he was holding nothing but air, the bag having been snatched back by Ilia, arms locking it in a crushing embrace against her chest.

"It's not what it looks like!" she blurted out suddenly. Jaune could do little more than blink in confusion as the Faunus girl's became a bright red and she hid her face behind the bag.

"Uh, what…?" Jaune asked, still having no idea what Ilia might be referring to. "What exactly isn't what it looks like? The clothes?"

At the mention of the bag's contents, Ilia seemed to shrink into herself, and at this point, Jaune was starting to grow worried that something was seriously wrong. He watched as Ilia's silvery eyes peered over the rim of the bag, realization seemingly dawning on her, though about what he couldn't even begin to imagine.

"Ah… r-right. Sorry..." she mumbled. "I just… forgot something."

Still cradling her bag of clothes, Ilia started walking again and Jaune followed wordlessly. The rain had died down considerably by now, but he still kept the umbrella above them until they reached the end of the town square, at which point Ilia turned around to face him.

Just as she was about to start saying something, however, her scroll started beeping and she turned away again, putting the pad to her ear.

XXX

" _Operative Amitola, what is your status?"_

Glancing over her shoulder, Ilia had to choose her words carefully lest she reveal something she _really_ shouldn't to Jaune, getting them both into massive amounts of trouble.

"Busy," she replied after a split second, "But I can still hear you out. What's going on?"

" _Understood. In that case, I'll keep details brief for now and you can check out the full assignment when you're somewhere private,"_ the voice from the scroll said. Ilia didn't recognize it entirely but she knew it had to be one of the communication agents from back at the base.

"Alright, sounds good," she answered as she took another step away from Jaune.

" _There's a big operation coming up sometime soon. We've acquired a large shipment of dust, courtesy of our new **associates** , that needs to be loaded and transported out of Vale. As you might expect, this is something we need to take care of **covertly**. You have been assigned to keep watch for anyone or any **thing** that may cause complications during the loading process. Should any **problems** arise, you are also expected to **take care of them** ," _the voice explained gravely.

This was _big._ Bigger than what Ilia had expected to hear at a time like this. Nervously, she looked in Jaune's direction again, suddenly _praying_ he hadn't overheard anything. If he knew about an operation of this size, Adam would without a doubt want him to be apprehended, and that was only if her superior was feeling particularly _lenient._ The more likely option was far more grim.

Of all the moments she could get a call about this operation, it really had to be _now,_ when she'd been spending a good hour, maybe even more, in the company of a _human_ of all things. A human whose very presence made her stomach flutter. A human whose hand had practically made her heart skip a beat when it had squeezed her own. A human who she had freaked out over seeing the spoils of her shopping trip, only for her to realize a second later that he wouldn't have any idea why clothes like the ones she'd bought were so _embarrassing._

"O-okay. I'll take a look at it when I can. Was there anything else?" Ilia said, voice hollow and her tongue feeling like it weighed a hundred times more than it should.

" _The rest of the specifics about the mission will be sent as soon as this transmission finishes. Beyond that, all personnel should keep an ear out for rumors that might have ties to the operation and report where and how they overheard them. That is all. Over and out, operative Amitola."_

It took a couple of moments before Ilia started to lower her scroll from her ear, her jaw clenched hard as she tried to process the information she'd just been given. This wouldn't be the first major assignment she'd been apart of, but she had simply been _so_ not ready to learn about it while Jaune was around.

As her thoughts went back to the boy, the stray idea of him somehow getting himself mixed up in the operation by being in the wrong place at the wrong time hit her like a sledgehammer to the gut.

In fact, Ilia became so caught up with the prospect, and the dust transportation in general, that she didn't notice Jaune calling out her name with alarm until it was too late. There was another noise that screeched at her as well, yet it felt distant, only registering in the background of her mind while her ears focused on Jaune's voice.

"ILIA LOOK OUT!"

In her efforts to not have him overhear her, the Faunus unknowingly been walking further and further out into the rain slicked street, and as she started to turn her head towards Jaune, she was instead met with the sharp headlights of an oncoming car, the sound of its horn finally breaking through the fog of her thoughts. It hadn't been soon enough, however, time lurching to a halt all around her.

She wouldn't be able to get out of the way in time, nor would the car be able to stop. Not on a road like this.

For an instant that felt like it lasted an eternity, Ilia was overcome with dread, her legs stumbling over one another. Years of training and preservation instincts shouted at her to _move,_ but the signals couldn't reach her limbs in time for her to react properly.

Then the impact hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Yup. Chapter ends right there. See ya in the next one, fuckers!


	4. Bethesda Game Studios Presents

**Bethesda Game Studios Presents**

What exactly made her wake up, Ilia wasn't really sure of, but her best guess had to be clacking and rumbling that continuously assaulted her ears as she returned to consciousness. Her head felt like it was practically splitting itself apart, and her whole body ached like she'd been thrown right through a concrete wall. Though she wasn't sure if she could trust it or not, her sense of balance told her that she was sitting in a hard and unpleasantly cold seat that, every few moments, jolted like a car running over a pothole.

Wait.

Car…?

Groaning, Ilia slowly opened her eyes to a picture of dreary gray skies passing by above her with old looking, equally gray trees reaching up towards it all around her. Wherever she was, she didn't recognize it, and at the same time as she realized this, she also became acutely aware that she had no idea what was going on right about now. The last she remembered was the flash of headlights and the screech of car tires, after that there was nothing.

' _Is this-… am I dead…?'_ she thought, a horrible sinking feeling landing in the pit of her stomach.

She tried to reach up a hand to rub at her eyes, hoping that maybe she'd gotten a concussion or something and was hallucinating images of the afterlife, _somehow,_ only to quickly find that her hands were bound together on her lap. As she gaze left the sky, her head turning towards the right, she found herself staring at the back of a brown clad man, a pair of reigns leading from him to a large, sturdily built horse that was attached to a carriage.

The same carriage that Ilia now pieced together she was sitting in.

It only took moments for her breathing to start becoming erratic, panic-born adrenaline pumping its way throughout her veins. She didn't recognize or remember any of this, and the prospect of actually being dead threatened to make her heart explode from how quickly it was beating all of a sudden.

She was trapped, maybe not even alive anymore, and whatever came next was completely outside her control.

As Ilia steadily headed towards the mother of all anxiety fueled cardiac arrests, her attention was suddenly caught by the sound of someone speaking to her. And then, in a painfully crystallizing moment of absolute clarity, Ilia actually _did_ start to recognize her surroundings.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

Despite not having told her his name, Ilia knew that the man sitting opposite her on the carriage was named Ralof, a Nord, and a member of the Stormcloaks, on his way to be executed. She knew this information because despite what she'd thought only moments ago, she _had_ been here before. Only never in _this_ kind of way.

Throwing her head back, Ilia shouted with fury and flame towards the very heavens and beyond, willing her voice to reach through the very fabric of reality so that it could make its way to the man who had done the unthinkable.

" _DAMN YOU TODD HOWARD!"_ Ilia howled, the world around her shaking from the sheer power in her scornful exclamation.

He'd done it again. The unfathomable maniac had released Skyrim on yet another fucking platform! Despite all her rage, Ilia knew this wouldn't be the end of it. In her heart of hearts, she knew that he'd never be satisfied until _everything_ was Skyrim. Because his re-releasing had proved that it did, in fact, just work.

Ilia would never be able to bring down someone or some _thing_ like that, but at the very least she could perform one last act of protest in the hopes that maybe it'd right one wrong.

With a steeled heart and while muttering yet another curse upon the Howard bloodline, Ilia stood up and threw herself off the front of the carriage, staring defiantly into the wagon wheel that would, in mere seconds, end her life. In the mud clinging to the surface of the wheel, she swore she could see Todd's face, laughing at her misery as blackness overtook her once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not apologizing~

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Chapter 2? Yes? No? Go die in a fire? You decide! If y'all want more, I'll give you more!
> 
> Maxaro out!


End file.
